Page 22 of Jett

He glances at me with a glazed over expression.

“Get in the van. Kick, go put some fucking pressure on his wounds and make sure he doesn’t bleed to death, yeah?”

“You got it, Prez.”

“The rest of you, get the guns,” I demand. Sirens wail in the distance. “Now!”

We pile the guns into the van. Crazy and I climb in the front alongside Killer, while the rest of my boys sit in the back. Killer slams the pedal to the floor and speeds away.

I glance over my shoulder at my brothers as I slide my phone from my pocket and dial the Butcher. Everyone’s accounted for. A few of us have taken hits—grazes, surface damage mostly—but none are bleeding as bad as Trigger.

Fucking crazy arsehole. I’m starting to think I made a mistake invoking his inner psycho. The last thing we need is more men down for the count.

Ryzhanov got away. He’s still on the streets, which means he’s still a threat to my club, to my livelihood, to my wo—he’s still a threat to Raine.

Fuck! I slam my hand on the dash as quiet settles over the van. I need that Slavic motherfucker dead.










RAINE

THE GUTTURAL ROAR OFseven engines shake the clubhouse walls as the boys pull into the lot. Ivy bites her lip and squirms in her seat. The dog on her lap lifts his head and yawns.

“Daddy’s home,” she purrs, and it’s not hard to see why Tank fell in love with her—or why she was the favourite among the MC’s ... girls.

Indie laughs. “Ew, please tell me you don’t call him daddy?”

“I call him whatever he wants—makes no difference once his fat cock is inside me.”

I giggle and glance at my empty glass.How did I manage to drain it dry again so soon after Raphe’s wife, Charmaine, refilled it?

“Uh-oh. Raine’s blushing again,” Indie teases.

Ivy laughs and rolls her eyes. “She needs another drink and a good, hard dicking from Prez.”

A vicious laugh comes from the door and we all turn. Mia stands in a black bodycon dress and heels, her make-up and hair as perfect as ever as she clutches a tumbler to her chest.

“Pour me a drink.” She slides her glass on the table beside me. “And while you’re at it, do us all a favour and stop throwing yourself at my husband.”