Page 25 of Racer

I didn’t bother trying to rein in my rage and deadly intent. The warnings had been delivered, but they were like a red flag being waved in front of an angry bull.

If Dez Franklin’s crew was behind this, they’d made one very critical mistake.

They’d tried to kill another brother.

Now they weremine.

And I wasn’t walking away until every last one of them bled.

9

EMILY

In the wake of Miller’s accident, Jude’s playful smirk was gone. So was the cocky edge and sarcastic charm. What was left was something sharp and dangerous. Lethal.

But also steady. That was the part that got to me the most.

Kane and Edge were quick, but Jude had got to Miller first.

I was still trembling, trying to breathe through the memory of smoke, fire, and the awful sound of crunching metal that threw me back to Mason’s crash.

I kept my gaze on Jude, and it grounded me. Anchored me in a way nothing else could.

He was pissed. I could feel it rolling off him in waves, but his control never slipped. And when his hand brushed mine—just briefly, enough to check if I was okay—I nearly broke.

Jude somehow seemed to know exactly what I needed.

Wrapping his hand around my wrist, he murmured, “Gonna take Emily to the clubhouse.”

“Good call.” Kane shot me a concerned look. “Safest place for her to be right now.”

I was still replaying everything when we started walking toward the lot.

We were only halfway to his bike when it happened.

A flash of headlights. The roar of an engine. And a blacked-out vehicle flying toward us way too fast for this area.

“Emily!” Jude yanked me back hard.

I stumbled against him, my heart leaping into my throat. The car sped past, close enough that the breeze it left behind whipped my hair around my face.

“What the hell?” I breathed, looking up at him.

His expression was carved from stone.

“I don’t know if that was meant for you or me,” he muttered, his voice low and deadly. “But they’re gonna pay for getting that close to you.”

He didn’t wait for my response—just grabbed my hand and led me toward his bike. And when I climbed on behind him, I somehow felt safe.

The ride to the Redline Kings compound was short. I’d been here more times than I could count, but riding through the gate on the back of Jude’s bike felt different.

Jude killed the engine, climbed off, and reached for me before I could dismount on my own.

“You’re staying here tonight,” he commanded, voice low and firm.

“I’m fine?—”

“I don’t care. You’re not leaving until I know it’s safe.”

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