Page 29

If a car pulled out in front of us, I wasn’t going to have time to brake. We’d hit. We’d roll. Then… if we survived that, we could just be picked off. We could…

“Zo, listen to me. You’re going to be okay. We’re getting closer. You know what you’re doing.”

But I didn’t.

I really didn’t.

I never even sped . I liked speed limits and red lights. I was a big fan of putting proper distance between my car and the one in front of me.

I had no idea how my car handled sharp turns or uneven roads at high speeds.

“Biscayne,” I said, focusing on the one thing I could do. Name streets.

“You’re three streets away from the main drag. You’re almost there.”

“What if my car rolls when we turn?”

“Listen. You want to brake hard before the turn, alright? Not during it. Brake before. Then slowly lay off of it as you make the turn. Don’t make any jerky movements of the wheel.

And don’t overcorrect. The car’s momentum is going to pull you through the turn.

Don’t turn the wheel the other way. Just let the movement take you. Say it back.”

“Brake before. Ease off. Stay steady. Don’t overcorrect.”

“Yes. Exactly. You’re in a low car. It’s a lot less likely to roll in general. You know what to do to keep it from happening.”

“Okay,” I agreed, trying to take a deep breath. I eased each hand off the wheel, wiping it on my shorts.

It was coming up.

I had to be prepared.

Coast was right.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

“Only—no!” I shrieked as the car rammed mine again, making it jolt hard to the side, and taking Lainey’s constant cry to a full-on wail.

“Zo?”

“He hit me again.”

“Okay. Alright. You’re almost there. Focus on that. Brake before. Ease off. Steady. Don’t overcorrect.”

That was helping.

He was tunneling my vision.

The street was coming up.

There was no traffic. Thank God.

“I’m going to turn,” I told Coast. Then said a silent prayer.

“You’ve got this, Zo.”

Three.

Two.

One.

I slammed on the brake.

Then eased off as I turned the wheel.

My stomach plummeted and my heart wedged itself up in my throat, feeling like I was on some out-of-control carnival ride.

But no, dammit.

I was in control.

Like Coast said, the momentum pushed us through the turn.

I carefully turned the wheel.

But at the last second, the backend fishtailed hard, making me cry out as my phone flew off my lap and clattered down into the footwell somewhere.

A whimper escaped me as I did what I wasn’t supposed to—overcorrected.

The rear wheel slammed into the curb.

Sparks flew upward.

Then I felt it.

A hard vibration.

The car pulling hard to one side.

I’d experienced that once before.

A tire blowing out.

“No no no no no,” I cried, feeling the tire flop, then the car dragging hard as we started riding the rim.

“No!” I yelled, too hysterical to stop myself, to try to keep calm for Lainey.

Steering was getting harder with the car desperately pulling to the side, making me use all my grip strength to keep us moving straight.

I couldn’t ride a rim forever.

How long did I have?

A couple hundred yards?

A mile, max?

Sparks kept flicking up in my peripheral.

But all I could focus on was the car gaining on us more and more.

Useless tears flooded my eyes and poured down my cheeks before I could stop them.

If it was just me, I could pull over and run.

But it would take too long to get Lainey out of her seat.

All I could do was keep going until I couldn’t anymore.

Then I heard it.

The roar of motorcycles just as the road went from industrial to rural again.

Coast was coming.

He could fix this.

He would save us.

I knew that down to my marrow.

It was enough to keep me going even as the car objected, as the sparks flew, as I started to swerve as I lost more and more control of the steering.

Then there they were.

Eight, maybe ten, motorcycles. Fanning out to each side.

And behind them, an SUV.

Even through my tears, I could see Coast in the driver’s seat.

The rumble of the bikes roared in my ears as they moved between me and the other car, cutting them off.

The SUV parked in the middle of the road, so I kept moving until I was beside it.

Coast hopped out, whipping open my door.

“You’re okay. It’s alright. Listen to me,” he said as he dug around in the floorboard until he located my phone. “Drive up past the curve. Sass is coming for you. Get Lainey out and get in her car. Leave yours. I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he assured me, then slammed my door and ran back to the SUV.

It squealed as he took off.

And I did what I had to.

I kept driving.

But slower.

More in control.

And I went ahead and pretended not to hear the pops of the gunshots as they rang out behind me.

I got just past the curve and pulled off onto the grass on the shoulder.

I gave myself one second to lean my head back and breathe.

Then I jumped out, grabbing my purse and Lainey’s diaper bag, then rushing around the car to pull the still-screaming Lainey out of her seat.

“I know. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry,” I cooed at her, rocking her on the side of the road as headlights sliced through the night, approaching at a breakneck pace, but eerily silently.

I knew from talking with Coast that Eddie, Sass, Che, and Donovan loved street racing back in the day. And they all still had really fancy cars. The kind that purred instead of roared.

Soon enough, the car was sliding across the center line, slowing down, then doing a quick K-turn.

Even as the car stopped, Sass was leaning over the center console to push the passenger side door open.

“I don’t have a backseat,” she said, giving me a tight look. “But I’ll do a granny tap and mind every bump in the road.”

She was a mom herself.

She knew how much I hated the idea of putting my baby in a car without a seat, even if she was in my arms, but desperate times meant we had to accept less-than-ideal situations.

I climbed in.

And as promised, Sass slowly pulled off.

It was only maybe an eight-minute drive back to the clubhouse.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, Jade was already standing in the driveway, ready to sweep the hiccuping and snot-covered Lainey from my arms and start to comfort her as I walked on numb legs into the clubhouse.

Where I promptly dropped down onto a chair in the kitchen.

And let out all of the terror and anxiety.

My body shook.

My sobs filled the room.

And all the while, Sass sat beside me, her hand sliding up and down my spine and offering me tissues until I nearly went through a whole box.

“Okay. I got the little munchkin cleaned up, changed, fed, and down,” Jade said, coming back into the kitchen and immediately going to the coffee machine.

“Thank you.”

“I was happy to. You two needed a chance to regulate.”

“Shouldn’t the guys be back by now?” I asked, sniffling.

“Well,” Sass started, sharing a look with Jade.

“See, the way these things usually go down,” Jade started, “is this is going to be a long night. There are… things that need to happen. And the guys always make sure they are meticulous about it. For obvious reasons.”

“Right,” I agreed.

“But they’ll be back by morning,” Sass assured me, patting my knee. “As for us, we sit up and drink coffee and wait for them. Or, if we’ve had a big fright, we go to sleep and wait for them to wake us up when they come in.”

With all the adrenaline drained, I was tired down to my bones. But my mind was too alive to sleep.

So I sat up with them, drinking coffee, talking about the club, about the kids, about all the insanity that other women had brought upon the men.

Which, little by little, made me feel a hell of a lot better about my situation.

Eventually, Sass had to head back home to her kids, leaving me with Jade.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve yawned in the past twenty minutes,” Jade observed, putting our cups in the empty dishwasher. “Why don’t you go and at least try to sleep? I promise, Coast will let you know as soon as he is home, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I agreed, dubious. “Thank you for everything, Jade.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re family now,” she said, waving me off as she walked out into the backyard, completely oblivious to how much impact her words had.

Because, God, I really wanted them to be true. I wanted to be able to call this crazy, chaotic, loud, loving group my family. Lainey’s family.

But I guess, only time would tell if that would be the case.

I dragged my tired bones up the stairs, checking on my sleeping baby, telling her I was sorry about her crazy night, then climbing into the bed.

I was sure I wouldn’t sleep.

But I was out cold within a few moments.

Sure enough, Jade was right.

At some point, with the sun streaming through the windows, Coast slipped into the bed with me, rolling me onto my back so he could look down at me.

My eyelashes fluttered open, finding him freshly showered.

With three new tallies on his neck.

“It’s over,” he told me.

Then his lips were on mine.