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Raven

S ince the attack on Nix’s friend, nothing else has happened. Nothing more from the Bastards and not a damn thing from the Sons. It’s like we’re all stuck waiting, for what, I have no idea.

It’s driving me insane.

I know I’m not the only one bothered by Viper’s lack of action lately. Since Nix and I are back at the clubhouse, we’ve heard more than a few arguments about our situation. The fearless leader keeps saying he has a plan, but he hasn’t shown anyone proof of said plan. This bullshit waiting game is going to come back to haunt us all if he doesn’t do something soon.

I’m so sick of sitting around waiting for the Bastards to make their next move. We need to strike now and strike hard. The guys have been working these last several weeks figuring out where Dom and his fuckers like to hide out. What they’ve discovered, I have no idea. The club hasn’t shared that information with me and my sister, even though we’re stuck in the middle of this shitstorm.

Fucking bullshit.

We were the ones threatened, so we have a right to know what's going on. Apparently, the Prez doesn’t agree. I got into it with him the other night about it. It was our first time speaking since the night of the bar attack, and it almost turned into another knockdown drag-out. The guys were so stunned that no one said a thing, though Bear did glare at me for the rest of the night.

"I have a plan," Viper kept saying. He had a goddamn plan, but he didn’t care to share it with the two of us who were targets. Great idea. Keep us out of the loop. Leave us to be sitting ducks for when Dom’s guys decide to make their move. Fucking genius.

I told Viper exactly what I thought of his strategy, and he didn’t appreciate it. Ever since, I’ve hardly looked longer than two seconds in his direction. We’re both too hot-headed to do anything but exist in the same space right now, and even that’s a challenge.

He tried preventing me from going to work, having the guys tell me it was safer for me to stay at the clubhouse while they figured everything out. Yeah, that went over well. I told his messenger to fuck off and try to stop me from going to work if they dared.

Tweak was smart enough to back off, and no one said another thing about it when I showed up at the bar that night, not even Reaper. He watched with his usual scowl and trailed me, Jesse, and Stitch as I headed in for my shift.

Smart man.

Nix is between semesters now, and with a house full of MC heavyweights locked and loaded, I figure she’s as safe as she can be at the clubhouse. If it weren’t for that, I’d still be there, ready to claw my eyes out. Knowing she’s safe and content where she is gives me a little freedom to escape for a few hours each day to preserve my own sanity.

Dom and his cronies already know I work there, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like the bar isn’t teeming with Sons anyway. Nope, it’s business as usual. A bunch of the guys are here watching over the place and talking shop. The rest are guarding the MC’s other assets, including Nix, and doing whatever else Viper assigned.

When I walked into the bar tonight, I could tell something was brewing. The guys were wound up too tight, waiting for something, checking their phones every few minutes. There have been several hushed conversations at the house lately, too.

I asked Jesse what was going on, and he said the crew’s plan was about to start unfolding. When I pushed for more details, he wouldn’t give them to me. He said it was better that I didn’t know. It’s irritating, and it’s made worse by the fact that I can’t work out my frustration at the gym.

My stolen bit of freedom has a short leash. The guys didn’t stop me from coming to work, but the second I said I was going to the gym, they formed a physical wall to keep me from leaving. They claimed the bar was one thing, but they didn’t have enough manpower to spare to guard the gym too. Not since the threat.

Between that and the way these assholes are acting tonight, I’m going insane. I need to hit something or find a willing partner to press me up against a wall. Something to curb this chaotic energy that’s roiling inside me. I haven’t done that since the last time Jesse and I hooked up and that was a while ago.

If something doesn’t give soon, it’s likely that I’ll track down Dom or his boys just to lay my fists into someone.

Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?

I know I’m a basket case, but I’m not suicidal. Going after Dom or his MC on my own would be exactly that. Fuck. I need to calm down.

I look over at Jesse as he pours a line of shots for a group of patrons. He wouldn’t say no if I asked him, but I can’t go back down that road. Not unless the situation is dire. He’s probably my only real friend besides Nix, and bringing sex back into our relationship would only complicate things again.

He hoped for more the last time we started up. Wanted things I wasn’t able to give him. Now, we’re back to a good place, and he seems to have let go of those fantasies. I can’t risk fucking that up and letting him slip back to old feelings just for a quick release, no matter how badly I may need one.

I scan the bar, looking for a distraction. When my eyes land on a hulking figure ten feet away, I consider another option to staunch my irritability. Maybe Reaper would be willing to spar come closing time. We could clear out the center of the floor and go a few rounds fist to fist.

Or you could have him rail you against the back wall. Hot. Heavy. Hard.

What the hell.

My body burns at the ridiculous thought that invades my mind. I feel my cheeks heat at the images that start forming, showing exactly how that would play out.

He’d have me spread wide as he lifted me up, pinning me against the brick wall. His hips thrusting fast and wild as he fucked me senseless. There’d be no room for soft and slow, not with Reaper. I’d have teeth marks and bruises all over from where he marked me, owned me, made me his. My core heats at the thought, and my breathing hitches.

I shake my head furiously, trying to dislodge the insane visuals now running rampant in my brain. Fuck’s sake.

I can still feel my face burning when I dare look up again, and goddamn it, if that rough sonofabitch isn’t staring right at me, looking like he can see right through me. Watching me through narrowed eyes as if he can read my fucking mind.

I have to turn away, especially when I start imagining that look in his eyes. There’s no way it was real. I must have dreamed it up in my sex-deprived state—that look of lust, of desire I saw raging as he watched me. We can’t stand each other. It had to be a fluke.

There’s no way in hell that those visions will become reality. Nope. Not ever. I just need to fight someone. I need to—

“Holy shit!” one of the patrons shouts. “A warehouse exploded outside Grande.”

All the thoughts in my mind halt. Everyone in the bar turns to the man as he reads the live report. “They say it’s like a bomb went off. That there’s live ammo and weapons inside. Emergency services can’t get close enough to put out the flames yet.”

“Holy fuck.”

Murmurs ripple through the room as everyone starts commenting about the blaze. Someone asks Jesse to turn on the news, and every station is reporting the same story. A massive explosion in a warehouse filled with weapons is raging as city leaders try to contain the situation.

One look around the room at the Sons, and I know who's responsible for the blast. Viper made his move. He’d sent his message to the Desert Bastards. Come for us, and we’ll light you up .

I know it's only a matter of time before the Bastards strike back, but it's a damn glorious sight seeing their empire burning to the ground. With the size of that warehouse, it had to be the MC’s center of operation. With that now up in flames, it'll take the fuckers a while to regroup.

My lips twitch at the thought, and I can’t help but gain a tiny bit of respect for the man the guys called Prez.