Page 5

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“ I don’t have a problem with spilling Marx blood tonight, Griffin. Get the fuck outta my way!”

Griffin smirks, completely unfazed by the gun I’ve got trained on him, even as he walks backwards.

“You’re standing on the rooftop of a Marx building, pointing metal at me. You really think there’s not at least four snipers ready to pull the trigger on you right now?”

Fuck.

That has me hesitating.

He could be bluffing.

But this is the Marx family I’m challenging here. They are the type to have traps set before you even realise you’ve stepped into one.

“How about you just step outta the fucking way then, so we don’t traumatise the poor girl even more, hey?” JD sneers from my side, his gun aimed at Devon Marx, who looks like he doesn’t have a fucking care in the world.

Cocky fucker.

“How about you leave us alone to do what we were paid to fucking do?” Griffin snaps, spinning on his heel and stepping around the corner of the bamboo partition.

What the fuck kind of rooftop is this?

As I step around the corner, I nearly slam straight into Griffin’s back, because the fucker has stopped dead in his tracks.

That’s when I see it.

A gun pointed our way.

“Crow. It’s only us. Lower your weapon,” Griffin suggests, his tone edged with caution.

I recognise the guy holding the gun as the driver of the ute that had my Angel in it.

“Can’t do that, boss,” Crow answers, his hard gaze flicking between the four of us.

“Well, isn’t this fun?” Devon drawls, stepping to the side and dropping himself into a sun lounger, stretching his legs out and tucking his hands behind his head like he’s a lazy fucking king about to summon the fucking sun to rise in the dead of night so he can get a suntan.

Crow curls his lip at Devon, but I ignore their exchange and look past him, taking in a bunch of familiar faces.

Fox Pines kids.

Lexi’s friends.

Only, they’re not really kids anymore, are they? They’ve all grown into themselves, and judging by the way they’re standing behind Crow, arms crossed, not looking remotely fucking impressed, I’d say they’ve got as much balls as he does, daring to point a gun at his fucking boss.

A Marx boss.

On second thought, maybe that’s just dumb.

“Where’s Abbey?” I demand, stepping forward and shoving Griffin aside.

The fucker just chuckles, but given his gun is still in his hand, I’d say he’s a little concerned about the loyalty of his own crew member.

“None of your concern,” Crow responds, which is when Lexi pushes through the wall of her male friends, stepping up like she’s ready to fight me herself.

“What did you do?” she snaps, cheeks flushed with anger.

“The fuck do you mean?” I snap back, my gaze bouncing between her and her fucking posse.

“You were meant to keep her safe, Ringo. I reached out to you because I trusted you. Then you call and say she ran. But why did she run? Why wouldn’t you give me answers? What did you do?!”

I jerk back at her yell, her anger hitting me like a punch to the gut.

“What the fuck are you accusing me of?” I growl, and another fucker, one I recognise as Ayden’s cousin, steps forward, eyes burning with the kind of rage that means he’s two seconds from swinging fists.

“If you fucking touched her, I’ll—”

“Please stop this bickering.”

The new sharp voice cuts through the tension like a blade.

I turn, and my stomach sinks to find the Angel sisters strolling around the corner .

Fucking hell.

Am I really standing on the rooftop of a Marx-owned building in the middle of Melbourne, surrounded by two of the most notorious Marx bastards, a pack of Fox Pines teenagers, and the fucking Angel sisters? The same women who have a little black book of killers that they send out to hunt down abusers and carve out their retribution like modern-day fucking assassins?

What fucking bullshit is this?

“Jared, lower your gun,” Amanda insists, giving Crow a look that says she’s not in the mood for his bullshit.

“Not until they toss their guns aside,” Crow bites out, and Amanda smirks, turning her raised brows to her sister, Bec.

“You heard him, Griff.” Bec holds out her hand like she’s expecting a fucking gift, and Griffin scowls, clearly not happy.

Even so, he surrenders his weapon.

The fuck.

“You too, Devon.” Amanda gestures to the lazy fucker on the sun lounge, his gun not drawn anymore.

The smug prick gasps dramatically, feigning terror.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” he mocks before stretching like a lazy cat, plucking his gun up between two fingers like it’s a dirty sock, and tossing it to Bec.

Bec catches it with ease and rolls her eyes as he flops back down like the world’s laziest warlord.

Fucking Marx family.

“JD. Ringo.” Amanda turns to me, her hand outstretched and I grit my fucking teeth.

“You want me to fucking trust you after I asked for your help with Abbey and you turned me down?”

Amanda sighs. “We were in lockdown. And we were at capacity. I offered Devon’s help.”

My glare snaps to him.

“You really think sending her to him was the best fucking option?”

Devon smirks. “What’s wrong, Ringo? Scared she’d like me better than you?”

I snarl, taking a step towards the cocky fucker, but Lexi shoves her way between us, holding up a hand.

“Either get rid of the gun or leave, Ringo.”

Damn.

She may be a sweet-looking thing, but she’s got the spine of someone who’s been through hell and came out swinging.

Eyeing JD, I give him a nod, and we relinquish our guns to Amanda, who hands them off to Bec.

“Lower your gun, Crow,” Griffin snaps, and this time, the blond guy with a huge fucking chip on his shoulder does as his boss asks, lowering his gun and slipping it into the back of his jeans.

“Hush. You too,” Bec calls, and I frown, looking amongst the Fox Pines teens.

Who the fuck is Hush?

Everyone looks around like they are trying to spot someone, but Bec’s gaze doesn’t falter off Griffin as she sighs.

“Lower the knife, Dee.”

Griffin’s whole body stiffens, his eyes wide before he spins, and a strangled gasp floats past his lips.

Holy fuck.

There’s a girl. A five-foot-nothing girl with dark eyes, sharp as fucking daggers, mere inches away from Griffin. Her gaze is locked on him like he’s already dead, and in her hand is a massive fucking blade, an inch from his face.

Hang on. I recognise her.

She’s the girl that was in the ute with my Angel.

Dee. Crow’s chick.

“Fuck. Where did she come from?” JD mutters quietly, but it’s loud enough for Dee, or Hush, or whatever her name is, to hear.

Her dark gaze cuts to him, head tilting in a way that sends chills right up my fucking spine.

This girl is a killer. I’d bet my hog on it.

If she really wanted Griffin dead, he would be already, and judging by his ready to flee stance, he fucking knows it too.

“Come on, Dee. Put it away and let’s all take a breath.” Amanda insists, and I wonder, just for a moment, why this little lethal killer would listen to the Angel sisters.

But she does, which means she works for them.

“Right, now that we have all calmed down...” Bec claps her hands together, now free of the weapons, as the little assassin shoulders past Griffin with a glare and moves to stand by Crow’s side. “Let’s get this situation sorted so I can go back to my date.”

Amanda throws her head back, laughing. “A bottle of red and a book is not a date.”

“When a book can give me more pleasure than a real, living man can, then hell yes, it is.” Bec shrugs, and I just shake my fucking head, my patience running out by the second.

“Where’s Abbey?” I snap, cutting through their bullshit.

Bec’s glare sharpens. “She’s not your concern anymore, biker boy. You were given a job, and you failed. So now we’re stepping in. ”

“The fuck you are,” I snarl, stepping forward, but the little assassin is quicker, moving between us and cocking her head in challenge, those dark, unblinking eyes locked on me like she’s measuring exactly how much effort it would take to put me down.

“Ringo,” Ayden steps forward, cutting through our standoff, and just like that, my tension eases a fraction.

I stare at him, the guy I spent years protecting from my brother, Muz, before he finally died. Ayden is taller than the last time I saw him. More built too, packed with strong muscles that he didn’t have as a teen.

“Let’s just relax a little and sort this out, yeah?” Ayden suggests, and I fucking grind my teeth, because I fucking hate getting pulled into line by a guy that was a teenager a year ago.

Even so, I suck in my fucking pride and give Ayden a nod.

He’s right of course, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. But since my goal is my Angel, and I’ll be fucked if I’m letting anyone keep me away from her, I take a step back, roll my shoulders, and try to shake off the rest of the tension clinging to me like a second skin.

“Ringo, Bec is right,” Lexi snaps, stepping up beside Ayden. “I asked you to keep her safe, and instead, she ran from you. I want to know why.”

“Did you ask her why?” I snarl, and just like that, another fucker steps forward.

He’s built like a fucking tank, fists balled at his sides, body practically vibrating with aggression.

I remember this guy from my little brother’s funeral.

Garrett Cole .

“Lexi is asking you !” he fucking bellows, his voice so deep that it shocks me for a moment.

“Stop!”

The single shouted word has everyone freezing, and for the first time in what feels like months, my fucking pulse stutters.

The group before me shifts, bodies moving aside to let someone through… and there she is.

My Angel.

Every ounce of anger drains from me in an avalanche of white noise.

“I appreciate everyone trying to help me. Really I do.” Abbey’s sweet voice sounds sure and strong as she draws closer. “But no one has asked me what I want, and to be frank, I’m fucking sick of it.”

Fuck.

“Did she just swear?” JD murmurs next to me, and I nod absently, a smirk tugging at my lips.

My Angel has a pure heart, but it’s wounded and scarred, and the woman standing before us now with her hand running over the swell of her stomach is the same woman I caught glimpses of at the Western.

The same woman who, no matter how many times she’s been knocked down, keeps clawing her way back up.

“Sorry, Abs,” Lexi steps closer to my Angel. “I just thought because you wouldn’t accept our help last year, we kinda had to take matters into our own hands.”

I realise now what I hadn’t before.

They were all protecting her, standing in a line so we couldn’t get to her.

I can respect the fuck out of that kind of loyalty, because I know what it’s like to care about Abbey Delany.

“Things have changed now,” Abbey continues. “You got me away from my family and Daniel, and now I need to do what’s right for my baby.”

Now standing before Lexi, I notice my Angel is a little taller than her friend, but as I watch them together, it’s easy to picture them as kids, growing up together, side by side, getting into mischief.

I wonder if Abbey realises that what her and Lexi have is more than friendship.

It’s unbreakable.

Like family.

Like sisters.

Lexi’s eyes fill with tears, and as usual, Ayden is right there to soothe her, running his hand down her back, keeping her grounded.

“Of course.” Lexi’s voice is thick with emotion. “What do you need, Abs? What can we do? We’ll do anything.”

Smiling, Abbey reaches out to squeeze Lexi’s hand before finally turning in my direction.

And fuck, I feel it.

Her caramel orbs lock onto mine for a few long beats before darting away just as fast.

Her head drops, chin lowering… And fuck me, the way she shifts into her submissive pose has my blood rushing straight to my fucking cock.

“Angel?” The word is out before I can stop it, and of course someone just has to fucking pick up the pet name I called her.

“Why the fuck are you calling her Angel?” Crow snaps, but I don’t spare him a second fucking glance, my eyes remaining locked onto the woman who’s had me on the edge of insanity for over three fucking weeks.

“Eyes up,” I demand, and just like usual, she obeys, her gaze snapping to mine.

The thing with Abbey is, she was raised in a controlling environment. She likely didn’t even notice it until all the shit with her and Daniel happened. Until her parents’ control tightened to near suffocating.

She was raised to submit. To obey. To take direction and orders, fall into line, and never speak up.

That sort of submission is a turn on in the bedroom, but even in that environment, she’d have all the power with the simple use of a safe word.

Her parents never gave her that.

She’s never had the luxury of making her own decisions. Even now, after that little outburst, she won’t say what she wants because she’s spent her life terrified of how people will react.

How will they punish her? How will they make her feel bad for speaking up?

So she’s not going to say what she wants now, unless I demand it.

“The fuck?” someone whispers as they witness Abbey’s obedience to me.

“Tell us what you want, Angel.”

She parts her lips, but snaps them shut, her uncertain gaze darting to Crow and the little assassin.

“Eyes on mine,” I snap, and again, her gaze returns to me and she licks her lips. “Tell us, now. ”

“I need to speak with Ringo alone,” she rushes out, and the Fox Pines crew move as one, shuffling at the unexpectedness of her request.

My fucking heart, which I’m sure stopped minutes ago, kicks back into action with a force that nearly takes me to my fucking knees.

Is it possible that I haven’t lost her after all?

Because she bailed really fucking fast from me. From the Western.

And yeah, I get that she didn’t understand what was happening when I lost my shit. I’m still fucking pissed that she fled before she could learn the truth.

But she’s here now, right in front of me, and I need a fucking minute alone with her without all these eyes on us. Without all these fucking opinions coming from every fucking direction.

“You sure, Abs? You don’t have to. If he’s forcing you…”

Abbey’s wide eyes snap back to Lexi at her words, her expression tightening like she’s been slapped.

“Ringo would never force me to do anything.”

Lexi hesitates, looking between us. Her brows pull together, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“Uh… okay… ummm.” She flicks a glance at Ayden, looking for backup.

I get it. To her, it must look like I forced Abbey to tell us what she wanted a moment ago. And maybe, in a way, I did. But all I was really doing was giving Abbey permission to be honest without making her feel like she had to take responsibility for it.

Amanda, watching the whole exchange, steps in smoothly to assist .

“If that’s what Abbey would like, how about we give her some privacy?”

There’s a heavy pause.

Abbey’s hometown friends hesitate, their reluctance thick in the air.

Their instincts are screaming for them to stay. To protect her. But one by one, they finally start moving, dragging their feet as they go.

A few of the guys size me up as they pass, and I grin.

I like those fucking kids.

Devon, ever the smug prick, takes his sweet time, cracking his neck and finally peeling himself off the sun lounger like a man with nowhere important to be.

He saunters past giving me a slow, knowing smirk that makes my fists twitch.

Ignoring him, I watch my best mate, JD turn back to Abbey.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Jols will be relieved to hear it as well.”

Abbey’s lips kick up in a small, warm smile, and JD turns and claps me on my shoulder before following the others inside.

And just like that, it’s quiet, the sounds of the city almost muffled as my gaze travels up from Abbey’s feet to take her in properly for the first time tonight without an audience.

Fuck me.

Her hair is a soft pink shade now. It’s pretty on her. Really makes her dark eyes pop. She’s wearing black boots. A knockoff version of Docs. The grey skirt hugging her hips stretches over her bump stopping just above her knees. And her top, a red, white and black tee, is tied in a knot at the front, sitting below tits that are fuller than I remember.

Fuck .

It doesn’t really look like her style, but considering she’s been hiding out at Leather and Lace, I bet these clothes came from the girls there. They are the type of clothes that despite her condition, would have helped her blend in.

But fuck, I’d spot her in a heartbeat. My Angel doesn’t blend in.

Not to me.

When my eyes find hers again, I take a step forward, moving close enough that she has to tip her chin up to hold my gaze.

“You fucking ran.” My voice is rougher than I mean for it to be.

But I can’t help it. Being here with her after all that time apart. All the fucking doubt and frustration and sleepless fucking nights.

And here she is. Just standing here.

Safe.

Whole.

Looking at me like she’s not sure if she wants to run again, or stay.

Hooking my finger under her chin, I lean down, hovering my lips achingly close to hers as my voice drops, low and firm.

“What did I tell you about running from me?”