Page 6 of Jett

“But you won’t,” she says, with a fragile smile.

“Nah, I won’t. You may not wanna be here, but it’s the safest place for you. Go get cleaned up. I don’t have no pants that are gonna fit that tiny little arse of yours, but I got T-shirts and flannels in my bedroom. You’re welcome to ’em.”

“I don’t need ...” she begins, but glances down at her top and freezes when she sees the blood and brain matter plastered to it. “Oh my God.”

She covers her mouth and dry retches. Then she hurries down the hall to the bathroom where she chucks up her guts—if the noises are anything to go off. I leave her be, because I’ve got a call to make.

I pull out the phone and dial Prez. He answers on the first ring. “What?”

“We got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“A goldilocks problem,” I say.

“The fuck you talkin’ about, Grim?”

“Raine was attacked outside her apartment.”

“What the fuck? Where is she, and how do you know? I thought I made it real fucking clear that you were supposed to keep your distance when it came to her?”

“If I kept my distance,” I whisper, “she’d be bleeding out on a footpath right now.”

“FUCK!” Prez roars into the receiver. “And why the fuck is she there with you, huh?”

“What? You wanna take her home to your wife?”

Prez inhales sharply. I can tell he wants to say more, but he knows I’m right. If I hadn’t followed her, if I’d kept my distance like he told me to, she’d be dead. “Start talkin’. You tell me who I gotta fuckin’ rip apart, Grim.”

“Russians. I think they had a message for us, but I haven’t asked her yet.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because she’s in shock, Prez, but you and I both know who they want.”

“Tank.” He exhales slowly. “Jesus fucking Christ. It never rains but it goddamn pours.”

A phone rings in the background and he tells me to wait. A half-second later, he shouts, “Fuck me! Get your arses to the clubhouse. Your women too. I want everyone on lockdown where these arseholes can’t touch us.”

There’s a cacophony of noise in the background, and I’d bet my left nut Jett’s just done a little redecorating in his office.

“Prez?”

“Where’s Raine now?”

“Chucking up in my bathroom, why?”

“Kick and Tank’s old ladies were attacked. Indie was waiting on Kick to pick her up from working at the café. She’s a savvy bitch, so she got away. A couple guys went after Ivy too—Tank was home and dealt with them accordingly.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit is right, motherfucker. Get your arses back here. We’re going into lockdown until every last one of those bastards are dead.”

“She’s safer here.”

“Did you hear me? I said get here now.”

“No, I’m not risking this shit tonight. We’ll get there as soon as we can, but I’m not leaving this fucking apartment.”