Untitled Book 2 (21 page)

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Authors: Chantal Fernando

BOOK: Untitled Book 2
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“Are you both okay?” Tracker asks, racing to us, while Rake stands there, ready to shoot in case they decide to come back.

“Shay?” I ask, getting off her and helping her up. I scan her from head to toe, but she looks fine, no injuries that I can see.

“I'm fine,” she says, running into my arms and hugging me. “Holy shit, that was scary.”

She's shaking, and I run my hands up and down her arms, looking at Tracker.

“Take her inside,” he demands, putting his gun away. “Someone might have called the cops if they heard the gunshots, which means they'll probably drive around here at best, come visit us at worst.”

I nod, lift Shay in my arms like she's a new bride, and carry her inside. I lay her down on my bed and just hold her in my arms.

Fuck.

That bullet just missed her.

I almost lost her.

I lift up her T-shirt, and she does have some scratches on her from when I pushed her to the ground, but other than that she's fine. “Are you sure you're okay? Fuck, Shay, they almost got you. I don't think I've been so scared in my fuckin' life. Fuck!”

I want to rage, break shit, and ride on after them.

I want to beat Talon's ass. 'Cause her location did not come from any of us.

But more than anything, I want to make sure she's okay.

“I'm fine, thanks to you,” she says, rubbing my back. Great. She almost gets shot, and now she's the one comforting me. I close my eyes and just feel her in my arms.

So. Fucking. Close.

Things can change in an instant, but we're lucky this time. Still, I could have lost her. The pain that slices through me at that thought tells me I was right the whole time about her—she's mine. I don't care what anyone has to say, or how long we've known each other, or any other fuckin' minor details, the woman in my arms belongs to me. I've never followed any rules, and I'm not going to start now; I want Shay, and so I'll have her.
I know she wants me too. I know that she follows her heart, unlike me, who always listens to his head—this time though I'm listening to both.

“Those bastards are going to die,” I announce, stilling her hands. The fear and anger firing through my veins are a dangerous, heady mix.

“Vinnie—”

“No,” I say, not wanting to bother with her trying to talk me out of it and all that shit. I don't care about the danger, I don't care if I get hurt, as long as she's safe. I can handle myself; she can't. I can protect myself, but all she has is me.

And the men who just tried to shoot her—they will pay with their lives.

*  *  *

“I'm fine, Vinnie,” she says, over and over again, from where she's lying in our bed. I, on the other hand, am pacing up and down while trying to call Talon, and of course the bastard isn't answering. We can't just sit here anymore, idly, waiting for them to make their moves. Talon and I have taken out two people who wanted to hurt her, but we need to do more, and we need to do it faster. I don't care how high the death count goes, one innocent woman is worth more than any amount of corrupt, dirty men.

“Vinnie, will you come and sit down, please?” she asks, worry dripping from her tone.

For her, I stop, squeezing the phone tightly in my hand before coming to sit on the edge of the bed. She intertwines her fingers with mine and brings my hand to her lips to kiss my knuckles.

“I'm a little shaken, but I'm okay. It's not like I didn't suspect something like this would happen, Vinnie. I'm extremely lucky this is only the first time, or that they didn't get me. I feel lucky right now, more than scared. I'm here, breathing, you by my side, and I for one am happy about it.” She looks down at her hands and takes a deep breath. “Do you think it's time I left here? They know where I am, and I don't want anyone here to get hurt, I'll never forgive myself. What if Clover was out front when they decided to do the drive-by? Or Faye, or one of the other women? I wouldn't be able to live with myself, and as much as I love it here, I can't stay. I need to talk to Talon, he can set me up somewhere else.”

I wait for her to mention what she thinks I'll be doing, going with her or staying, but she doesn't. Obviously, I go where she does, but I want her to know that too. Her line about Clover hits me hard, because if anything happened to that little girl, the whole club would die with her. I don't know what to do, how to keep everyone safe, but I do have an idea that might work.

“Don't worry about all that,” I tell her, kissing her forehead. “All the necessary security measures will be taken now, no one will get hurt. I messaged Sin, and he's on his way here, along with all of the other men.

“Either the clubhouse will go into lockdown, or everyone will stay at their private residences—I think in this case that will be the best option, because it's you they're after, but that's Sin's call, not mine.”

No one would bother going to Sin's or anyone else's private residence. Even though the Kings MC are involved, I don't think they'd be stupid enough to come at the Wind Dragons head-on, although I'm sure they don't give a fuck who gets hurt
in the cross fire. I hope they realize just what kind of enemies they're making though, because we're known to hold grudges.

“I hate that this happened,” she says, sighing sadly. “I really thought for a while that they'd just gotten over it, with my father's death, maybe forgotten about their stupid revenge for everything he did, especially since I had nothing to do with it, but I guess their pride or whatever wins out over logic.”

“No one was hurt,” I remind her, lifting her chin in my fingers. “That's the main thing. They struck at us and missed, but when the Dragons strike, we never miss, so they just made a huge fuckin' mistake. We'll identify them from the surveillance cameras and go from there.”

And by that I mean get rid of them.

I'm not usually so bloodthirsty, but for Shay, I'd do anything.

After I find out some information, like how they knew where Shay was and who else is after her.

Tracker is right—I've never been this cold before.

But I've never had anything to lose before either.

*  *  *

“There were two in the car,” Sin tells the table, then slides two pieces of paper to Arrow. “We managed to print out still shots of their faces. Tracker, you and Arrow will find them.” He waits for them to nod in agreement before looking to me. “What do you want to do next, Vinnie? The clubhouse isn't safe until we take care of these two men.”

“I can take her away somewhere,” I say, leaning back in my chair and studying each man. “But they might think she's still here and attack anyway. I don't think the women and children should be here until I sort this shit out.”

“I agree,”
Sin says, sitting back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. “We need to see what information we can get from these men, and if the Kings are directly involved. Vinnie, I'm leaving that up to you. Trace, I want you to make sure our weapon supplies are ready, in case shit goes down. I want men protecting the women and children at all times—no one goes anywhere alone, just in case. Everyone can just stay at their houses and avoid the clubhouse until this shit is sorted. I don't think they'll bother hurting anyone unless Shay is with them. They're not stupid enough to want a war with us, but that's exactly what the motherfuckers are going to get.” His blue eyes narrow to slits. “No one shoots up our clubhouse and gets away with it.”

Murmurs of agreement.

“Anyone have anything else to say?” he asks, glancing around the room.

Silence.

“Let's do what we have to then.”

Everyone leaves the room except me and Sin.

Then I tell him exactly what's been on my mind.

THIRTY-ONE
Shayla

“I
HATE
that everyone has to leave because of me,” I tell Sin, looking down at the floor. “This is your home. I never should have come here. We should've known it wouldn't end well.”

“Shay,” Sin starts, patting Colt but his eyes are locked on me. “We're bikers. We live our life a certain way, and with that comes danger. This isn't the first time and it won't be the last time shit like this happens. More than anything, we're family, and we all look after one another. The women will understand, trust me. They've all been in some kind of shit at one point or another, and we always saved them, just like we're gonna save you. You just need to be patient and trust that your man is doing his best to bring all this shit to an end.”

“I do trust him,” I try to explain. “I guess I just wish he didn't have to do all this, you know? Why couldn't I just be normal?”

“Then you probably wouldn't have met Vinnie,” Sin points out, sounding amused. “There's no point wishing for shit; the only thing you can do is work toward your goal of getting what it is you want. I've seen the way you and Vinnie are together. I
know you care for him. I've seen how you look after him.” Colt runs off, and he watches him. “Love the man, love the club. We're a package deal, and you fit in here, Shay. Maybe that makes you fuckin' crazy too, but you do. The women love you. The men go out of their way to teach you how to shoot guns, and shit; hell, even Clover talks about her aunty Shay now. I wasn't sure about you at the start, but Vinnie was right. He never makes decisions lightly. Everything with him is thought out. The fact that he brought you here spoke volumes and surprised us all, to be honest, but Vinnie knows what he wants.”

His words mean everything.

“Thanks, Sin,” I say, smiling at him. “I really needed to hear that right now, because I'm second-guessing everything, just because I feel the exact same way about everyone here, and it breaks my heart that you're all getting dragged into my shit. I even thought about leaving—”

“We'll find you,” Sin cuts me off. “And it just wastes our time, and it will stress Vinnie out; you don't want to do that, do you?”

“No,” I say on a sigh. “I don't know what's more selfish, me staying or me leaving.”

“You're not selfish. You're in a bad situation—you didn't ask for it, and you didn't do anything wrong. There's no point concentrating on all the details, Shay. Everyone pays for their family's mistakes in some way, your price just happens to be high.” He pauses and smirks. “Like people-wanting-to-kill-you high.”

I roll my eyes at his badly timed joke. I have no idea how he can find anything funny about this situation. “If anything happens to Vinnie . . .”

“It won't,” Sin says, sounding confident enough for the two of us. “Because I won't let it.”

He sounds so sure, even though we both don't know what the future will bring.

“Okay, no more feeling sorry for myself,” I decide, choosing to be more optimistic like him.

“That's it,” he says, nodding. “You have to fight for your happiness; everyone has a different war, but you need to tell yourself that you're going to win. Who's going to believe in you if you don't?”

Vinnie will, I think to myself.

Sin smiles, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. “You're a good egg, Shay.”

“About time you realized that,” I tease.

He barks out a deep laugh. “I didn't get where I am today by trusting everyone I meet. My trust is earned, not freely given. I observe; I analyze.” He pauses and grins slyly. “I consult my know-it-all wife.”

I laugh with him over that one. “So now we plan for war?”

“Something like that,” he says, standing up. “We were hoping you'd make us dinner, since you're the only woman left in the clubhouse.”

It's then that I give the president of the Wind Dragons the finger.

He throws his head back and laughs, then disappears inside.

I end up making them dinner. After all, it's the least I can do. Plus, like Sin said, love the man, love the club.

And I sure as hell love both.

*  *  *

Several days later, I'm packed and ready to deal with my father's house. Vinnie and Sin are coming with me, and although I feel
like this is an unsafe trip, the two of them assured me that it's going to be fine, that they've covered every angle. Faye and Clover are staying with Tracker and Lana until we get back—we decided it would be easier to just spend the night there. The thought of going through all my father's belongings and putting them into storage makes me feel sick, but it needs to be done. I need to start facing things head-on, and I'm going to start with this. It's a six-hour drive to get there, and although I offer, for some reason Vinnie is adamant that he drive the whole way there and back.

“I can drive, you know,” I say, wanting to prop my feet up on the dash, but I don't, because we're in Vinnie's four-wheel drive, not my car. “You're going to get tired if we drive the whole way.”

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