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“I’ve got you,” I told Caroline out of the corner of my mouth.
“You better,” she hissed. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”
CHAPTER 18
CAROLINE
I had gone up against most of the Devil’s Luck in one way or another. I had done terrible things to them and the things—and people—they cared about. They had every reason to hate my guts. They had every reason to draw their guns and pepper me with bullets.
The only thing standing in their way was an ancient Ford and their own brother.
Knox still had his hand on my thigh. I had a feeling it was the only thing grounding both of us.
The tension between the Devils and us crackled like lightning. I didn’t know where to look. There were eight men—including Grant and Gabriel, who seemed to back Knox but were bound to their president at the end of the day—blocking our path of escape.
Just eight men. I knew them all, of course, both from direct interactions and Wolverine intel.
Black Jack, the president, who had given my father a run for his money since his return to Reno. His woman, Sam—I helped burn down her bar. Mason, the vice president—High Roller, I believed, was his MC name—whose girl I basically assaulted. Jameson AKA Tex. I clipped his ear with a bullet—I couldn’t see it under his hair. His woman, the cop Carrie, had irritated and inconvenienced me beyond belief. I’d hurt her, too. Abel “Snake Eyes” and Brody “Chips.” I hurt them and their girls, too.
I was a truly awful piece of shit excuse for a human. All these lives I’d fucked over multiple times… They had to be itching to pull out their guns and take revenge. I would have wanted to in their shoes.
Grant and Gabriel joined the others. Something in their faces made my stomach clench with mistrust. Did they really come down to warn Knox, or was it some kind of setup? Did they genuinely try to save Knox from their president’s wrath, or did they just want to be here to enjoy the show when Jackson showed up?
Black Jack got off his bike and took a few angry steps toward the Ford. “Get out of the fucking truck,” he ordered in a tone that promised an easy death. “Both of you. Now.”
I stiffened and grabbed Knox’s arm so tight he winced. “Knox,” I said out of the corner of my mouth. “How the hell do we get out of this? You know they’re gonna kill me for everything I’ve done over the past few months.”
Knox snapped his head toward me. His stupidly pretty blue eyes burned hotter than hellfire when they locked on mine. His jaw flexed hard enough that I thought he might shatter his own teeth.
“Did you already forget what I promised you, woman?” His voice dropped low, lethal. “I’m not letting anyone lay a single fucking finger on you. No one’s putting a bullet in you while I’m breathing.”
The words hit me straight in the chest, to strike my cold, dead heart like an arrow. “Knox, you can’t take my side over your brothers. I can’t ask that of you. It isn’t right.”
Knox turned off the truck and tossed the keys on the dashboard. “This whole damn situation isn’t right,” he growled, turning back to glare at Black Jack as if daring his president to make a move. “But I’ll be dead in the dirt before I let them put their hands on you.”
“Knox,” I said pointedly, half warning, half pleading.
He looked at me again. “Stay in the truck, Caroline. No matter what. You hear me?”
I wanted to start an argument and be an obnoxious bitch, but Knox was already opening the door and jumping out. I reached for him just as he slammed the door shut behind him to approach Jackson.
The Devil’s Luck MC all killed their engines. The rumbling from them that filled the air was instantly replaced with ominous silence.
I had seen Wolverine MC members turn on each other like starving dogs plenty of times. I spent months trying to fuck these men over in the name of my father. Was it because I wanted to cut ties with him forever that it allowed humanity—guilt, fear, shame—to flood me like a tidal wave?
Knox approached Jackson slowly with his palms raised like white flags. “Hey, Jackson,” he said in a quiet tone, like he was trying to calm a dangerous animal. “Look, I know how this looks. Just let me explain?—”
Jackson’s fist connected with Knox’s cheekbone with the sound of bone against bone, so loud it echoed off the trees. I flinched and covered a scream with both hands. Knox’s head snapped to the side, his body jerking with the force of it, but he only stumbled back a step, holding his ground.
Stay standing, you idiot, I thought.
With a punch that hard, his face was going to be black and blue in no time. I knew the swelling would be anything but pretty. We could worry about that if we made it through this alive.
“I deserved that,” Knox rasped, “but, Jackson?—”
Jackson Black wasn’t done.
He grabbed Knox’s shirt, yanked him forward, and threw another punch just below where the first one hit. Knox staggered again, this time almost falling on his ass. The skin split, and a trickle of blood oozed from the already-bruised cheek, tracking down to his chin. Knox just swiped the back of his hand across it and spat on the dirt.