Page 14 of Linc

Myheadslowlyturnstoward the voice I was hoping I’d never hear again. I haven’t seen this piece of shit since he was sitting in a courtroom six years ago. He looked like hell then and doesn’t look much better now.

Jude and the rest of the guys stand from their seats and turn to face Jace and the two goons with him. I don’t recognize them from the drop-off, so I assume they weren’t part of the Irish crew we met up with earlier. There’s no doubt in my mind my prez has no idea Jace is connected to the Irish, so my guess is neither are these guys. Which makes them fair game.

I place myself protectively in front of Charlie. Jace notices, and a wicked smile flits across his face.

“Still the protective asshole from six years ago, I see,” Jace starts. “You know, if you think that frigid bitch is gonna give it up to you, you’re wasting your time. You could always take it. God knows I had to sometimes.” His smile is all teeth when he tries to look around me at the terrified girl I’m attempting to conceal.

The small whimper that escapes Charlie doesn’t go unnoticed by me, and the implication of what he just admitted as if it was no big deal fans the flames of angry retribution coursing through me. No woman should ever feel fear like that, especially in my presence.

I see red as I reach under my cut. I’ve had enough of this disgusting rapist asshole. I should have finished the job years ago. It’s time he was put to ground for good.

The movement draws the eyes of the other two assholes with him, and they draw their weapons.

“Get down,” I yell to Charlie and Lucy, who are frozen in terror for a brief moment before Jude and Barrett flip the table onto its side, and the two goons with Jace open fire. I hurl myself over the bar as the bottles behind me explode, raining shards of glass and liquor over the two frightened girls holding tightly to each other. Jude and Barrett begin returning fire over the flipped table.

One of Jace’s men hollers out in pain and collapses on the floor. These guys are real idiots not having anything they can use for cover before opening fire on a room of bikers. Jace and the other guy go to the injured man on the floor, each grabbing an arm and tumbling outside.

I jump back over the bar and run to the door. Fuck that guy if he thinks he can talk about raping women, then open fire on me and my brothers and get away.

Stepping out into the warm Texas night, I catch the older model sedan peeling out of the gravel parking lot. Raising my gun, I attempt to shoot out the tires or the driver—doesn’t matter to me at this point—but the car is swerving so erratically that my bullets miss their target. If I did hit a tire, they’re not slowing down to check it out.

When the taillights have disappeared down the dark road, I turn back toward the bar and see my brothers outside with their weapons at their sides.

“They got away,” Jude says.

“No shit, Sherlock. Any other studious observations you’d like to share?” Walking back to where my brothers stand, I’m frustrated and angry that, one, I didn’t get the license plate, and two, those fuckwads aren’t riddled with bullet holes.

“I called Ozzy. He said you had a heads-up that this was a possibility. What other trouble is that girl in there going to bring to our doorstep?” Jude says through a clenched jaw, pointing to the door.

“This is far from her fault, Jude.” I say the words, but now I’m not so sure. “And I didn’t have time to tell you what Ozzy said before that stupid fuck decided to shoot up the place.”

Jude catches the brief flicker of doubt on my face and pounces.

“You don’t know that for sure, though, do you? What if he’s been holding a grudge all these years and was just waiting to get you away from the rest of the club? Maybe he thinks you knew where Charlie was the entire time, so he’s been staking her out, waiting for you to show up and catch you off guard.”

My fist tightens around my gun before I put it back in the holster. I might not want to have a deadly weapon in my hand the more shit Jude spouts off about Charlie.

“Or maybe, they’ve been working together. Maybe he’s been here all along, and she called him when you walked into the bar.”

“Jude, she was shocked to see him,” Barrett interjects. “There’s no way you can fake that kind of fear.”

When I questioned her about Jace being close, the look on her face hadn’t been an act. Nothing Jude says is going to convince me of that, but he does have some valid points. Namely the trouble part. I may not fault her for what happened all those years ago, but I need to know what the hell Jace was talking about. What could be so important that he would track her down to Texas and come in armed and ready to take back whatever she has?

I walk back into the bar and don’t see Charlie or Lucy.

“Did they take off?” Wyatt asks behind me. I didn’t hear a car or see another set of tail lights, so that’s unlikely.

“We’re here. Maybe next time you guys walk back into a place after a shootout, you announce yourselves,” Lucy says, standing from behind the bar.

Charlie pops up next to Lucy, alcohol and glass shards all over both of them.

While Lucy looks annoyed, she’s clearly not as terrified as she was when bullets were flying. Charlie, on the other hand, looks like she’s going into shock. Between her pale face, the way she’s shaking like a wet kitten, and her gaze darting everywhere and nowhere at once is giving me pause. No, there’s no way she could have expected to see him or was working with Jace, as Jude suggested. I doubt he even believed the bullshit he was spewing.

I walk behind the bar and right up to Charlie, placing my palm on her clammy cheek.

“You’re okay. He’s gone.”

She’s shaking so hard, her teeth are chattering as she stares at me.

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