Page 122 of Bleed Me

Giver and I both shrugged, until a van, on mother-fucking-fire, raced past the working bay to where we could see it and through the compound’s opening, crashing into running bikers.

In shock, we stalled for a second, then shielded our eyes as the van blew sky high.

“Holy shit!” yelled an impressed Giver.

I chuckled, so proud. “I think that was our sign.”

Helping each other, we all got to the gate and crawled through the hole.

Wincing, Crow teased, “I’m sure glad Meatball ain’t with us. He’d never fit.”

Meatball suddenly appeared on the side of the building. “Really? We’re at Death’s door, and I have to go down hearing you fuckers tease about my ever-growing waistline?”

Getting to my feet, I listened as Lynx asked, “We missing anyone?”

We huddled at the end of the building while Meatball explained, “Dagger and Vice are pinned but are safe as can be. Ryders on the rooftop are shooting anyone who gets remotely close.”

Torque peeked around the corner of the building when we heard bikes roaring to life. “They’re running!”

We all took off on foot, trying to shoot anyone our bullets would reach. We stopped shooting when seeing Diesel in the road, roaring mad, shooting at those fleeing until his gun ran out of bullets. We joined him and all remaining bikers, including Dagger and Vice.

Enough bikes, some double-loaded due to the carnage of metal and bodies at our feet, got away to give the Redemption Ryders’ President cause for concern. He pointed to headlights. “That fucker just promised retaliation against someone from this town. Could be another bluff, but we ain’t takin’ chances. For those who have families, get your ass to them now.” Some Ryders took off running toward where their bikes had been stored for safety. “The rest of you, get to locations of friends we have under protection—”

Art ran up to us. “Delilah is at her dad’s, so I’m headed to Jazebelle’s—”

I noticed Giver take a sharp inhale.

“—but I just got word Boxer Boy caught an early flight home. He will be there soon.”

“Shit,” grumbled Diesel until he looked at Giver and me. Then he pointed. “Seeing how you were just there, head back. I think he’s way down on their radar, but don’t get involved if anything goes down. Make a call. I don’t need my sister or Delilah knowing you’re alive.” Before I could argue since that was not the best move for Dick’s sake, Diesel told everyone, “I was supposed to go to the Ward’s anyway, so I’ll grab V and Tuck.”

Dagger, looking dirty and bloody, teased, “You had dinner plans?” while gesturing to the mayhem.

“It’s not like I el went-o. Stop chompin’ on my dick.”

Without time to assess injuries, or what kind of shape the two clubs were in, we reloaded guns and got more ammo from Diesel’s stash, then were all off on the hunt again. Giver’s bike hadn’t wanted to start right away since it had been on its side, but Giver got him to eventually cooperate. As I rode bitch, I hoped my own bike was still safely hidden.

Down the street from Maverick and Delilah’s house, we parked Giver’s bike in the trees but didn’t get off. There was no sign of intruders, so we just sat quietly in case any showed up. Tired, leaning against his back, I touched the wound on his shoulder where a bullet had grazed him. “Will you let me patch this up?”

“Will you—”

He dropped his head forward, so I finished for him. “Stop fucking Dick?”

“Sorry.”

I kissed his back. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

His back expanded against my cheek as he took a deep inhale. “Deal.” After studying our surroundings for a bit, he asked, “What’s it like to be with him?”

My throat tightened because that was such a complicated question. “Confusing. His body. His smell… It’s my husband. His touch. His words. His mannerisms… are his own, yet also part of my husband.”

Giver sounded sad, yet caring. “That sounds impossible to understand unless you live it.”

Around his waist, I laid my hands on his thighs. “You’re probably right. But it’s my life.”

“You regret that life, babe?”

“Only when loving Dick hurts you.”