Page 12 of Sniper

“Just like Grace,” Maverick offered, his tone grave. “Slate is trying to track him down. It’s only been a couple of weeks soeither he’s still in hiding, gave up, or he’s just regrouping for his next attempt.”

I hoped he’d given up, but I’d never be so lucky. When I found that motherfucker, I would pound his skull into pieces for whatever he did to her. I could guess, but the nightmares she had, night after night, told me the truth would be even worse than my guesses. Besides that first night, she hadn’t slept more than an hour straight. She woke up drenched in sweat, crying and begging, pleading with that asshole to stop whatever he was doing. “Not soon enough.”

“You could give her something to relax her,” Vandal laughed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“We’re not really married, dick.” Not that I hadn’t thought about having her. Even underweight she had curves in all the right places, plump lips, and a smart mouth. None of it made her less attractive, which really pissed me off.

The quiet night air was disrupted by the screech of tires and the simultaneous roar of motorcycles. We all turned around just as three bikes and a van slowed as they approached our property. The next few minutes unfolded in slow motion.

Gunshots rang out, two initially, and I yanked my gun from the holster on my hip, shooting back at these assholes who were bold enough to attack us on our property.

“Shit, Falcon!” Vandal was at his side as he crumpled to the ground. “He’s been hit!”

“Motherfucker!” I shouted, shooting as I drew closer to the vehicles. One biker went down. A bullet whizzed by my head and the asshole hanging out the van was thrown out.

“I got your six,” Maverick called out while I reloaded.

“Get Falcon to the clubhouse,” I called out, still unloading my gun on the shooters.

The van’s tires screeched before it sped away, but I wasn’t done, not yet. I dropped down to one knee and lined up my shot on the second biker who was about a hundred yards away, and then I squeezed the trigger.

The fucker went down, his bike skidded before crashing into a stop sign before silence fell. His buddies were long gone, hurting just enough to regret fucking with us.

“Who the fuck was that?” I turned to Maverick just as he was securing his weapon.

“Don’t know. Didn’t get a good look, but they belong to a MC.”

I nodded and looked around. “Anybody else hit?”

“Just Falcon.” It was only Maverick and I outside, the others had carried Falcon to safety. “I need to call the Doc.”

“Where’s Laura?” Hawk’s woman was a nurse, and she was excellent in a pinch.

“Working a double,” he shrugged. “The Doc will come. Nice shot, by the way.” He pointed to the biker still moaning in pain on the corner.

“Yeah, thanks.” Taking a life had always been part of the job, both in the military and here in the MC. It didn’t bother me, not much, but seeing one of my men go down? Bleed out? That always fucking bothered me. “Whoever these assholes are, we’re gonna make them pay. Tell me we’re gonna make ‘em pay Maverick.”

“Damn straight.” His large hand seemed tiny on my shoulder. “I’ll make sure you get first crack at ‘em. Come on.”

We rushed inside where the guys had shoved a few tables together, covered them with towels and laid Falcon on top. They had surrounded him with grim expressions, nobody sure what the fuck to do other than talk to him and try to keep him from bleeding out.

I watched the scene feeling helpless. I knew basic first aid from my battlefield experience, but nothing that my club brothers weren’t already doing. There was a bunch of brothers crowded around him, I couldn’t see him because of the bodies standing in the way, so I called over, “Stay calm Falcon, don’t breathe too fast or you’ll hyperventilate.”

“Did you get those fuckers?” he bit out between labored breaths.

“Two went down, but we’ll find the rest. Just relax, brother.” I was already planning to have Slate find these fuckers so I could hunt them down and hit them where they rested, where they thought they were safe from my reach.

Chapter Nine

Katey

I’d been sitting in my room at the clubhouse thinking about the shitstorm that was my life. At this point, I wasn’t sure how many days had passed. It could’ve been seven or one thousand, and I wouldn’t have known the difference because I rarely left the room. Despite what Sniper and his friends thought, none of this was to punish anyone except maybe myself.

I hated everything.

I hated Ethan with enough passion to power ten million suns. I hated myself for being stupid enough to fall for the wrong man. No, notstupidbecause he hadn’t been like this at first. I met him during my last year of medical school, and he was handsome and charming, and most of all he’d been kind. But it was all a lie. Ethan waited, bided his time until I was solidly in love with him before he pulled the rug out from under me. But I stayed after the first of the many red flags, such as his jealousy over my long hours during my residency. Then when my residency was over, I stayed just long enough that when I finally found it in myself to leave, he was too attached to let me go.

Attached. What a goddamn joke.

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