“Don’t insult the car. It’s better than walking,” Jace jokingly boasted.
“Not much,” Bliss teased, stepping back.
“It’s beautiful.” Cal smiled, rolling the window up in starts and stops.
“We need to fix that,” she heard Jace tell Cal as they pulled away.
She got into Drake’s car, mumbling.
“What did you say?”
“That car is ugly as shit.”
“It’s a classic.”
“Who did you buy it from?”
“Crazy Bitch.”
“Doesn’t that say it all?”
* * *
Bliss tiredly turned out the daycare lights. The Christmas party had wiped her out. Anyone who didn’t believe candy affected children needed to work in a daycare during a party. They had practically been hanging from the lights when the parents had started arriving. She had already told Jessie that the following year, they were having vegetable trays, and that was all.
“Are you still going to be around next year?”
Bliss realized then what she had unconsciously said.
“I guess so, unless another parent packs in a tray of Willa’s cupcakes. Then I want that day off or double pay.”
“I’m not making any promises. Those cupcakes are worth hiring extra help for the day.”
On that note, Bliss offered to close up for her.
“I appreciate it. I’m meeting my brothers at the diner for dinner.”
“Have a Merry Christmas. I’ll see you next week.”
Jessie left, still laughing about the kids’ sugar high.
It was the day before Christmas Eve, and the daycare wouldn’t reopen until the second day of January. Bliss was going to miss the children, but she would definitely enjoy the break.
The cold wind hit her as soon as she opened the door. She hurriedly closed and locked it, dreading getting into her cold car. When was she going to remember to automatically start the car so it would be warm when she got inside?
It was in the empty side parking lot where Drake was usually parked because he had been following her home after work. However, he had called earlier to tell her he was showing Cal an apartment and would see her later that night.
She was almost to her car when she heard motorcycles coming down the street. Wondering which Last Riders were riding, she stopped to look. That was her first mistake. Her second was not running like hell when Stark rode in, accelerating his motorcycle toward her.
She simply froze, putting her hands up to cover her eyes, temporarily blinded by his headlight and the dozen others following behind him.
“You have a choice, bitch. Either get on, or the only thing going in that pussy of yours from now on will be the worms eating your dead body.”
Bliss lowered her hands to see he had a gun pointed toward her face.
“You might as well shoot. I’d rather be dead than have you touch me!” Bliss yelled, making no effort to run. She wasn’t going to try to outrun a bullet.
When Stark grabbed the scarf around her neck that was blowing in the wind, Bliss tried to yank it back. She gave a strangled scream of terror when she saw his hand disappear in a red mist of blood. It splattered both her and Stark, and she fell backward as gunfire erupted around her.
She landed on her ass as the bikers surrounding her fell off their motorcycles, one after the other.
“Get in your car!” Dustin Porter yelled, running across the parking lot toward her.
Bliss got on her knees, crawling toward her car and whimpering, expecting to feel a bullet any second.
She reached her car just as a huge biker dropped next to her, his face no longer there.
“Oh, God … Oh, God,” Bliss chanted in terror.
“Move that ass!” Greer Porter yelled, stepping in front of her, his rifle blasting a biker who had been about to shoot.
“I’m trying!” Bliss screamed back at the man who had already picked another target, shooting a large biker who was trying to escape.
Greer laughed. “Like shooting sitting ducks.”
“Oh, my God, you’re crazy!” Bliss rose up on her knees to reach her car door handle.
She froze again, watching as Tate Porter drove his pickup into the parking lot, ramming the bikers with his truck. Bliss wanted to vomit. He was running them down without mercy.
She finally had her car door open and was trying to scramble inside when she felt herself picked up and tossed in. She heard the door slam as she landed, sprawled across the front bucket seats.
“Stay down!” Drake’s harsh voice startled her into rising, her own safety forgotten as she struggled to see what was going on outside.
“Drake!” Bliss screamed as he ran toward Stark, who was shooting at him.
She saw blood blossom on his shirtsleeve before he threw himself at Stark, knocking both of them to the ground. Drake’s fists pounded Stark’s face before he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.
Bliss watched in dismayed horror as Drake buried his knife in the biker’s throat then raised it again to bury it in his chest, dragging it downward in one stroke.