The Stones song came to an end, and for a moment there was a lull in the music, just long enough for me to hear the motorcycles.
I didn’t think anything of it since we were on Blue Angel territory and was about to ask Colt if I could buy him a beer when he suddenly pushed me to the ground.
I fell to the floor and Colt’s body draped over mine. Air whooshed from my lungs and my shoulder throbbed in dull pain.
“What the hell?” I groused, but the words lodged in my throat when I heard the sound of gunshots. Bullets began to spray the room. Windows exploded and the walls burst with clouds of dust. Shards of metallic-backed razor sharp mirror flew everywhere as bullets struck the glass behind the bar. People screamed and a cacophony of mayhem and destruction made my ears ring. Tables and chairs scraped along the scarred wooden floors as customers dove for safety. People scurried to find protection, spilling beer and liquor and knocking each other to the ground in a panic.
I was numb with terror, but I got out a strangled, “Joni!”
“Acid’s got her,” Colt said, voice hard.
When the noise ceased and the room had gone eerily quiet, I attempted to peer around. My breathing was shallow and spots danced before my eyes. “Colt,” I wheezed. “I can’t breathe.”
He lifted himself off me and stood. Reaching down, he took my hand and helped me up. The bar was wrecked. Bottles behind the bar were nothing more than shattered remains; tables and chairs were kicked over, the walls riddled with holes. There was a long crack down the front of the jukebox’s glass. It made a noise, trying to turn back on, but after a pathetic warble it fell silent.
People slowly emerged from their stunned confusion. They looked at the bar, taking stock of each other and themselves.
Someone whimpered in pain.
“Colt!” Cheese called out. “Over here!”
We ran to Cheese who was helping a struggling Joni sit up. “Don’t worry him for nothing,” she groused, pressing a hand to her upper arm. “I’m fine. It’s just a cut from glass.”
“Let me see,” Colt barked.
“I’m a nurse,” she reminded him, even as she removed her hand so Colt could inspect her injury. Blood oozed a bit from the wound before Joni pressed her palm to it. “It’s superficial.”
“Prez, we got trouble,” Acid said with a glance at the doorway.
“Iron Horsemen?” Colt asked, not taking his eyes from Joni who was sitting in a chair, looking far too pale.
“Cops.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Guys, get Joni and Mia out of here. I’ll deal with the cops.” He squeezed my hand and then let me go.
Acid hoisted Joni up and all but carted her to the back of the bar. Cheese and I followed at a quick pace. The four of us piled into Joni’s car and left the parking lot as quickly as we could without attracting any more attention. I sat in the back with Joni and kept up a steady stream of chatter in hopes of distracting her from the discomfort.
We got her checked in and registered at the hospital. She was taken back immediately, and the three of us moved to the waiting room.
“Coffee?” Cheese asked.
Acid shook his head.
“I’d love a cup. Thanks,” I said.
Cheese went off in search of caffeine and Acid pulled out his phone and shot off a text. Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Zip burst out.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“Doctor is stitching her up, she’s going to be fine,” I said, my gaze resting on him.
Zip nodded and then reluctantly took a seat. His leg bounced with nervousness and then he got up from his chair and began to pace.
“Who told you we were here? Colt?” I asked, pitching my voice low so Cheese and Acid didn’t overhear me.
“Acid texted,” Zip answered.
Another ten minutes passed in silence and then I saw Joni walking down the hallway toward the reception desk.