Page 19 of Blood Revealed

Fuck no. “She’s mine,” I tell Brin, and Brinley breaks out a giant grin.

“I mean, he told me that it was basically a done deal and then we kissed,” Hannah says to her sister.

“Oh mygod,” Brin replies. “My claiming was a bit different, but I hear that’s how it works.” She continues to laugh through that gorgeous smile of hers.

“It’s how I got Trish,” Sneak pipes up. “Didn’t give her a choice. You women will come up with any excuse to fight it, so it’s best not to give you a chance to.”

Hero and I laugh now too while Boetcher stands there holding his lunch with a look of awe on his face.

“Don’t worry, grunt,” I tell him. “You’ll get your chance, especially if you’re wearing a Lords cut. Ladies love the Lords.”

Hannah punches my shoulder, but she also pushes up on her toes to kiss me again. “Got a lunch here for you, too.”

“Thanks, baby. Love you, woman.”

“Be safe, okay? Come home to me.” Tears wet her lashes. Hannah rarely cries, which means right now, she’s scared. The woman’s not stupid and I know she’s heard things around the clubhouse.

“I make it a point to do what my woman says,” I say back.

When we break from our little bubble, Hero has Brinley shoved up against the bar with his tongue shoved practically down her throat. I grab a handful of his cut. “C’mon, lover boy.”

He growls, pecking one more kiss to the tip of her nose. “Love you, bird,” he says, to her breathy chuckle. It’s definitely time to go.

We head outside. It’s cold and there’s still snow on the ground, which means instead of bikes, we’re forced to take the old white van. The women stand outside waving us off. There’s a new guy at the gate, all the men call him “Little Britches” because the dude is short. He waves us off as we head down the mountain.

Duke wants us heading west. We’re not exactly sure what we’re looking for, but I assume we’ll know when we see it. Proof of clubs making their way into Lords’ territory. We drive for several hours until we hit the border. Just over on the Illinois side, we find what we’re looking for. Fuck. Riot. Nasty motherfuckers. Crazy. That’s the last thing we need. The piece of shit who bought Brinley, tried to kill her, he was Riot. There have to be at least twenty of them. Too close for comfort.

And what’s worse, they’ve taken over a former Horde clubhouse, like a swarm of wasps invading a beehive. Sneak pulls the van over. We conceal our location as best we can. Hero is already on the line with Duke reporting in.

“He says we need to get closer, get a better look,” Hero says after he ends the call.

Fucking great. The brothers and I slip out of the van. This is where Sneak and now Boetcher come in. Their job is to get close without being seen. There’s a reason Sneak is called Sneak. I sniff out the trails. That’s why they called me Bloodhound. Hero is like me; he sniffs out the trails.

Boetcher takes in a slow breath before letting it out and nodding. He’s ready to prove his worth to the brotherhood. Sneak gives Boetcher a signal with his chin and the brothers disappear into the brush and ditches that line the road. Now we wait until we get word from any of them to move out.

We stay on guard but keep hidden. Everything seems to be going well until that unmistakable sound of gunshots rings out, cutting through the stillness of the air.

“Fuck,” I whisper-yell as I take off running in the direction the brothers went. Hero’s phone buzzes. All he hears is, “Sneak’s hit. He saved me.” The kid probably says more, but Hero shoves the phone back in his pocket. We reach a thick of trees missing leaves and duck behind them. There’s a Riot standing over a body lying on the ground. He’s saying shit I can’t make out because of the blood pulsating against my eardrums. I don’t see Boetcher.

I look to Hero. He nods. We’re going in. I draw my gun and aim. The shot rings out, the Riot bastard shifts to find the source of the sound but the shift’s enough that the bullet meant for his chest hits his shoulder. The impact forces him back a step and he screams. I provide the cover while Hero goes in to grab Sneak. Boetcher crouches low, moving out of his hiding spot to help Hero. There’s blood all down the front of Sneak and he needs the both of them to help him out. The man can hardly walk.

“Get him to the van,” I yell to Hero, getting close because more Riot have joined and we’re under fire. I keep shooting until I run out of ammo in my clip. We make it to the van. Boetcher has a thigh wound and Hero was hit in the shoulder. As I speed off, I pull my phone out first to call the president of the Missouri chapter and tell him our dilemma. He orders us to head toward their compound. They’ve got a doc who can help the brothers. I describe the wounds, especially Sneak, who’s in pretty bad shape. He assures me they’ll be ready for us. I head west and cross over the border into Missouri. The Riot weren’t far from the Lords. We’re met with an open gate and brothers to help unload the injured. They even have a stretcher, the kind they used in the army during Vietnam to carry Sneak. The other brothers can walk.

I call Duke.

“Talk to me,” he answers.

“We’re screwed—need reinforcements. Sneak was hit. It’sugly.”

“Fuck,” he yells.

“Hero and Boetcher too, but not near as bad. Sneak’s with Doc Hatchet. Man, get out here.”

“I’m rallying the brothers now,” he answers.

“Do I call Trish?” I ask.

“It’sthatbad?”

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