Page 177 of Healed

The reservoir.

Our reservoir.

The place Vienna and I had always called our own.

“He’s just driven past Moortown Golf Club—an ANPR camera picked him up,” Hacksaw announced.

“He’s picking our spots,” I said to Vienna. “He’s trying to destroy my memories, to make me mentally hurt since he can’t hurt me physically.”

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath and then called out. “Boss?”

“What, Vienna?” Dante said back, seeming to have aged years in the past half hour.

“He’s off to the reservoir,” Vienna called out.

“You certain?”

“Positive,” I replied. “He knows that’s where Vienna and I used to hang out. We used to—”

“I’m leaving,” Rachel announced. “I’m leaving right fucking now and going to get my kids.”

She looked at Dante, and he nodded. “Go. Take every old lady who wants to ride. Greg, Chris, Trent—you’re with Rachel. You stay close to her and don’t let her out of your sight for a second. Either of them. I take it you’re going with her?” he said, looking at me.

“Hell yes, I am,” I replied.

“Where will you be?” Rachel asked, already strapping guns to her waist.

“I’ll be right behind you, darling. Go. I’ll be less than a minute.”

She was out of the door without so much as saying goodbye, the rest of the old ladies following her without question.

I quickly kissed Vienna and went to join them, knowing there was nowhere else I would ever be.

Because there was one thought every single one of us was trying desperately not to think.

Nico would not hesitate to kill those children. Not if he thought it would benefit him.

We were against the clock, and every second mattered.

Chapter 56

Gabriella

With Rachel leading the way, we raced through the streets of Leeds in the same formation as our men would have done during a Devil’s ride.

I was up near the front as old lady of the vice, Imogen and Gemma were behind me as old ladies of Trent and Ant, and the rest of the old ladies fell in behind them, with Steph and Beth both agreeing to ride in the car so the kids had transportation to get back.

Rachel tore through the city like a woman possessed. Speed limits, traffic, pedestrians —none of it meant anything to her. She wove through cars, she dodged lampposts and street signs, and blared her horn in warning to anything else. If they didn’t move, that was their fault. For those that dared answer her back, they were met with her gun as she fired off a warning shot.

That was enough to have the traffic moving out of our way for the next few miles.

Greg, Trent, and Chris were left in the dust, barely having time to kick their bikes into gear before we rode off, intent on bringing those kids back with or without them.

But secretly knowing the men wouldn’t be far behind.

We arrived at the reservoir in record time, and as we slowed down our bikes, my stomach lurched at the number of bikers waiting for us.

Rachel was off her motorbike before the engine had even come to a stop.