Page 22 of Property of Booker

“It was a skeleton crew, I doubt there’s anyone left to take out,” Branson announces.

“We’ll burn the place to the ground to be on the safe side,” Slayer says, stepping up to us and joining us as we sprint toward the motorcycles. “Shade, got any dynamite in your saddlebags?”

Shade’s face twists into an ominous smirk as he replies to Slayer, “It’s like my credit card, veep. I never leave home without it.”

Branson’s entire body begins to rumble and vibrate with unrepentant chuckles. When I jab an elbow into Branson’s ribs to stop his laughing, he turns to me with a humorous grin and defends himself, stating, “What? Come on, that shit was funny.”

I dismiss his smirk with a shake of my head and match Booker’s stride toward his motorcycle. Pausing briefly, he reviews the essential safety tips for riding passengers, warning me how to avoid the scorching heat of the exhaust pipes. Assisting me onto the seat, he remarks, “Time to move before the fireworks begin. Knowing our luck, his saddlebags are packing a flamethrower too.”

I let out a snort because he’s got to be pulling my leg, right? But when I look at him, the expression on his face tells me he’s not, he’s serious. “Oh boy,” I whisper.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Booker

I shove my spare helmet onto Kendall’s head and tighten the strap. My fingers linger on her jaw for a second before I swing my leg over, sit on the saddle, flip up the kickstand, and push the starter button. “Hold on tight,” I instruct her. “Don’t let go no matter what happens.” Burying her face into my jacket, she nods. The engine roars to life, sending a deep vibration through the frame and settling into my chest.

I twist the throttle and we tear away from the building just as the world behind us erupts. A massive bloom of orange flame paints the sky, and the shockwave slams into our backs a heartbeat later. The handlebars twitch under my hands, but I wrestle the bike straight until the tires bite the pavement. I don't look back. There’s nothing for us in that fire.

We ride until the road straightens into open blacktop. I cut the power, letting us coast into the gravel shoulder near an old, rusted signpost. We skid to a halt in the dark. The silence swallows us, broken only by the tick of the cooling engine. I plant my boots and steady the machine.

Kendall doesn’t let go. She leans her forehead against my back, her breathing shaky through the leather of my jacket. I reach back and cover her hand with mine, feeling the fine tremor in her fingers.

“You're okay now,” I say, my voice raspy. “It’s over.”

She shifts, pressing closer as if she’s trying to disappear into me. “It happened so fast,” she murmurs. “I really thought we were going to be stuck there forever.”

“I wasn't going to let that happen,” I reply. “I made a promise to you, and I will never break my word.”

We sit in the dark, watching the road behind us. I scan the shadows, waiting for the distinct thrum of the others catching up. I’m not relaxing until I see the rest of my brothers roll into view, but having her here, alive and breathing against me, makes the wait a hell of a lot easier to bear.

The quiet night is broken by the swelling roar of incoming motorcycles, transforming from a faint murmur to an intense rumble. I remain on guard until my brothers' recognizable silhouettes emerge from the darkness. Coasting onto the shoulder, they pull up and smoothly kick down their kickstands.

My focus shifts to Ozzie, and I can't help the chuckle that bubbles up in my throat. Branson is clinging to the back of Ozzie’s bike like he’s trying to merge with the seat’s fabric. He looks absolutely ridiculous, his limbs awkward and stiff, while Ozzie revs the engine just to make him jolt. Branson’s face is a mixture of pure terror and indignation, his knuckles white where he grips the backrest. Ozzie just grins back at him, clearly enjoying the hell out of the man’s discomfort. It is the most absurd sight I’ve seen all night.

“Careful back there,” Ozzie yells over the engine noise, glancing back with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Don't want to lose the cargo.”

Branson makes a strangled noise as he shakes his head. “Just keep us on the pavement, man. I actually want to live.”

“Take it easy, princess,” Ozzie chuckles while he hits the kill switch. “You're basically one of us now.”

Shade's practically hyperventilating from laughing so hard while he leans over his bike. When he finally catches his breath, he looks over at us. “The moment Ozzie hit high gear, he popped a wheelie. Branson went white as a sheet. It was hilarious.”

I see how different our lives are, and the lingering tension in my chest finally drifts away. It's a welcome distraction after everything we just survived.

I feel Kendall trembling against my back. Before I can turn around to check on her, her laughter rings out through the quiet night. “Cut him some slack, guys. He's a computer geek, his version of a wild time is cracking code.”

Slayer cuts off our teasing with a piercing whistle. “Ozzie, you and Shade get Branson back to his family. The guys already moved them to the Seven Points safehouse, and Splicer bandaged them up and gave them the all-clear.” Turning to Branson, he adds, “He gave them something to rest, and I’ll have a prospect posted outside to watch the house, so don’t be startled if you hear him tonight. We’ll get supplies sent over tomorrow to stock the kitchen. You’re safe now, and no one is left to hurt you.”

“I appreciate it, man,” Branson replies, his voice tight with choked-back tears. It must be an immense weight off his shoulders to know that the people he cares about are finally out of harm’s reach and can no longer be used as leverage against him.

Ozzie salutes us as he and Shade ride off, leaving a skeleton crew of me and Slayer to head back to the clubhouse. “Ready to go see your boy, Kendall?”

“Yes!” she shouts over the wind.

Slayer twists his throttle and his bike surges ahead with a roar. I match his speed. The countryside blurs into a mess of grays and blacks. The wind bites at us but I barely notice, my focus stays locked on the road and the woman tight against me.