"Christ. I give up," Huck said, getting up, walking over to the bar, and grabbing a bottle of whiskey.
I was just going to walk over and share a drink with him when Brooks's voice called from the front yard.
"Reign!" he yelled, voice full of warning.
And not a second later, I heard it myself.
The rumble of bikes.
"Freddie, get the women downstairs," Virgin demanded, standing, nudging her into action as he reached for his gun off the coffee table.
"Here, I'll take her," Freddie said, taking the leash from Remy as all the other men sprang into action, grabbing weapons, making their way out front.
Sure, you heard bikes in the area. We weren't the only ones who enjoyed the ride. But these weren't your local teens on crotch rockets or the weekend warrior types going for a ride.
This was a whole lot of bikes slowly rumbling down the street, seeming to want to be heard, to want to draw our attention.
It was the middle of the morning. I didn't want to get into a fucking gunfight when anyone could be walking down the street, passing in cars, but if someone was bringing a battle to our front yard, we didn't exactly have much of a say in the matter, did we?
By the time we burst out of the doors, the bikes had all come to a stop, their riders all keeping their seats, the bikes idling.
I could see the telltale bulge of weapons on some of them, but no one was holding one in their hands.
Suddenly, the front three riders cut their engines, climbed off, removed their helmets, and turned to make their way toward the gates.
The other bikes all cut off at the same time, making my ears ring with the sudden silence.
Nodding toward Huck and Cash at my sides, we moved forward as a unit as the rest of the men scanned the riders, fingers close to triggers should it become necessary to use them.
My own stayed just to the side of the trigger as I made my way to the gate, Lo's people pulling them open just far enough for me to see who I was facing up to without the wires between us.
Two men to the sides—tall, strong, tattoos, young like some of my newer guys, but not as young as my son.
But there in the center of those two, looking very much like the person in charge, was someone of the same age.
A woman.
With long, straight blonde hair, keen blue eyes, and a leather cut with a one-percent badge right below the one that said she, this woman young enough to be my daughter, was the president.
"Reign," she said, giving me a cool smile. "Looking like you're getting around just fine. Did you happen to get my care package?" she asked, keeping almost unnerving eye-contact.
"Shit," Huck hissed under his breath at my side.
"So, that was you," I said.
"It was. It was the least we could do, considering."
"Considering what?" I asked, feeling my spine stiffen.
"Well, considering I was the one who hired those idiots to grab you," she admitted, and I could hear someone cocking their gun behind me.
At the woman's sides, her men's hands went to their waistbands before she held up her hands to both of them, making them drop their arms.
"I'm confused why you would kill one of them when they were doing what you ordered."
"See, that's the thing about outsourcing," she said, waving a hand in the air. "They take the job and run with it like it was theirs to begin with. For the record, you were meant to be taken. And held onto. My orders were never to have you tortured. I mean, I love a little torture just as much as the next girl, but this was purely a snatch and grab job. They took matters into their own hands. They had to pay for that. You got to the rest of them before I could. But I felt it was our job to personally deliver Miguel. Make amends."
"If the job wasn't to torture or kill me, what did you want me grabbed for?"
"For a diversion, of course," she said, shrugging. "You were onto me. I needed you and your club to focus on something else for a while. So I could finalize my plans."
"You're the one fucking with our supply chain," I said, shaking my head.
"You weren't supposed to figure it out until we were all set up."
"Set up?" I repeated, jaw getting tight, having a feeling I knew where this was heading.
"Of course. I mean, this little town is big enough for two outlaw biker clubs, don't you think?" the woman asked, giving me a victorious smile.
It was right then that something came back to me. Something I had heard in the garage while I was strung up.
I'd heard bikes rumbling to life and pulling out.