Page 18 of Patchover Fright Night
“You’re not going anywhere, Grease. Tell us the combination, and we’ll get the satphone.”
He let out a frustrated growl, as he struggled to balance himself without our help.
“You know I can’t do that. I really don’t wanna die for something that dumb. Just help me get there, for fuck’s sake.”
“We need to lock the other ladies somewhere. Does this place have a lock on the main door?”
Grease rolled his eyes at me. “I mean, sure, but you do that, and nobody else can get in here to seek refuge, and what if some fucker tries burning the place down, and they’re trapped inside?”
Fuck. He had a good point, didn’t he? Right now, nobody was acting like themselves, and everybody had the potential to do something fucking stupid, or destructive.
“Should we all go? Just to keep them safe?”
Cammy gasped, cupping both hands over her stomach protectively.
“I can’t go back out there. I can’t risk our baby, but you need to find Stitch for me. I need him. I need him with me, and safe. You understand that, right? He’s the love of my life, and the father of this baby. I need him safe.”
I nodded, grasping her shoulder in a light grip, as I cast my eyes around the room. It wasn’t necessarily that defensible, but at least this door wasn’t directly open to the outside, so they’d hear people coming.
“Stay in Grease’s office, and uh…” I grabbed a baseball bat that was propped up in the corner, probably because Grease liked to protect himself.
He frowned at it though, clearly not recognising it. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
I looked at it more closely, as he started rummaging through the drawers of his desk.
“Fuck, and my gun’s gone.”
“Gun?”
He sneered at me then. “You think I’d use a baseball bat? There’s no class in bludgeoning people, man. A bullet. Swift, direct, life-ending.”
“And someone out there could have it?”
I passed the baseball bat to Tori, even though I was starting to realise that it was going to be no use, if someone out there had a fucking gun, but we hadn’t heard any sounds of guns firing, so that had to be a good thing.
“This has blood on it,” Tori pointed out, making me focus on the end of it.
“Probably mine,” Grease said, rolling his eyes at us, “I mean, it came from somewhere, right? The bigger issue is my gun.”
“Any one of those fucking drugged up assholes could have it, man.”
He shook his head at me. “Wow, I thought you were smarter than this. I’ve got a fucking head injury, and I worked it out.”
“Huh?”
“Whoever hit me, and trashed my door, must have taken it, and that wasn’t done by a biker on a fucking happy trip, Ryder. Someone’s doing this to us, and that’s who has my gun.”
Oh, well that’s just fucking perfect, right? An unknown attacker, armed, and with an incapacitated group of fucking targets to pick off. The next time a gun goes off, a brother could die.
“Shit, we need that satphone fucking now.”
“Ya think?” He shoved past me, his steps a little uneven, and I grabbed Tori, kissing her hard, and gazing into her eyes.
“Babe, you know you’re fucking dangerous, so stay that way, okay? Strike first, and ask questions later, even if it’s someone you know, because right now, they’re not themselves. They’re all a threat.”
She nodded firmly. “Not my first rodeo, baby, I’ve got this.”
That wasn’t supposed to be so fucking hot, but look at my goddess, standing there like a fucking warrior, the fighter I knew she was inside.
