my neck rise all at once. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Call the station and lock yourself in the bathroom,” I say, and quietly slip through the house to the kitchen. The lights are off, and Ana bumps into my back as she tiptoes along behind me, wielding the wooden baseball bat. “Baby girl, I need you out of sight.”
“I’m not letting you go out there by yourself. What if they have a gun?”
“It’s Sugartown. No one but Dave has a gun.”
“You had a gun.”
“Yes, but I stole it from a gang of bikers hell-bent on killing me for revenge.”
“Good point,” she says, but she’s still following me too closely.
“Ana. Cops. Now.”
“Fine.” She palms her phone from the side table, and tiptoes off toward the kitchen.
I quietly unlock the front door and step out into the freezing winter air. Frost covers everything, and the fog is just as thick. The cold bites into my exposed flesh and the soles of my feet as I sneak across the porch boards, and onto the freezing grass.
I swing the bat up onto my shoulder, and creep across the lawn towards the garage. Inside, there’s definitely movement. I hear it loud and clear: some fucker is hiding inside our shed.
A head pops out of the dark doorway, glancing back and forth between the house and the drive, checking that the coast is clear. I lean back against the side of the building to avoid being seen. The fucker comes sneaking out, unaware of my presence. I slink closer. He slides the deadbolt across the door behind him, and turns to stare up at the house. That’s when my bat meets his face. The angle is all wrong, and my limbs have no gusto in them on account of the cold, but he still staggers from the blow.
“Fuck!” he gasps and then drops his stuff, and bolts down the unsealed drive. I hightail it after him. I’ve never really been a runner, despite my long legs. I’m kinda huge, which evidently slows me down, but I’m clearly faster than this douche, because within seconds I’ve caught up to him and I’m pinning him on the ground.
I roll him over and take a swing at his face, right where I beat him with the bat. He cries out, and puts his hands up in order to ward of my blows. “Stop it.”
“What the fuck are you doing on my property?”
“Ethan, stop!” he shouts and my blood turns cold. Only a handful of people know me by that name, and none of them are people I want knowing where I live. “Please?” he begs, holding his hands up to ward me off.
I hold my arm back mid-swing and it drops to my side. “Kick?”
“You arsehole. You fucking broke my nose … again.”
I don’t know how I didn’t see it the second I got him on the ground. His hair is different, he always had this sandy blonde unwashed scruff. It’s now black and cut short. His beard is longer too, or I should say he now has one, since the last time I saw him he looked as baby faced as he did when we were kids.
“I knew I’d seen you before,” Ana says from over my shoulder.
“Baby, get back in the house.” I turn and glare at her. At least she had the sense to cover up. She’s wearing a thick wool jumper, boots and leggings.
“I’m not here to hurt either of you,” Kick says, sitting up.
“Why the fuck are you here? And how did you find us?”
“I saw your girl here on some show about eateries. It took me a second to work out who she was, though you don’t really forget a person you kill a brother for. Especially not your VP.”
“What are you doin’ here, Kick?”
“I need your help. I wanted out. They wouldn’t let me. Prez killed my dad, gunned him down in front of me like it was nothing. I just … I had to get out. The club’s gone crazy since your old man left.”
“My dad left the club?”
“You’re dad’s alive?” Ana asks incredulously. “Why have you never mentioned that?”
“Baby, I told you to go inside.”
“I’m not your club whore, Cade. You don’t get to order me around. I’m staying right where I am, thank
“Yeah.”
“Call the station and lock yourself in the bathroom,” I say, and quietly slip through the house to the kitchen. The lights are off, and Ana bumps into my back as she tiptoes along behind me, wielding the wooden baseball bat. “Baby girl, I need you out of sight.”
“I’m not letting you go out there by yourself. What if they have a gun?”
“It’s Sugartown. No one but Dave has a gun.”
“You had a gun.”
“Yes, but I stole it from a gang of bikers hell-bent on killing me for revenge.”
“Good point,” she says, but she’s still following me too closely.
“Ana. Cops. Now.”
“Fine.” She palms her phone from the side table, and tiptoes off toward the kitchen.
I quietly unlock the front door and step out into the freezing winter air. Frost covers everything, and the fog is just as thick. The cold bites into my exposed flesh and the soles of my feet as I sneak across the porch boards, and onto the freezing grass.
I swing the bat up onto my shoulder, and creep across the lawn towards the garage. Inside, there’s definitely movement. I hear it loud and clear: some fucker is hiding inside our shed.
A head pops out of the dark doorway, glancing back and forth between the house and the drive, checking that the coast is clear. I lean back against the side of the building to avoid being seen. The fucker comes sneaking out, unaware of my presence. I slink closer. He slides the deadbolt across the door behind him, and turns to stare up at the house. That’s when my bat meets his face. The angle is all wrong, and my limbs have no gusto in them on account of the cold, but he still staggers from the blow.
“Fuck!” he gasps and then drops his stuff, and bolts down the unsealed drive. I hightail it after him. I’ve never really been a runner, despite my long legs. I’m kinda huge, which evidently slows me down, but I’m clearly faster than this douche, because within seconds I’ve caught up to him and I’m pinning him on the ground.
I roll him over and take a swing at his face, right where I beat him with the bat. He cries out, and puts his hands up in order to ward of my blows. “Stop it.”
“What the fuck are you doing on my property?”
“Ethan, stop!” he shouts and my blood turns cold. Only a handful of people know me by that name, and none of them are people I want knowing where I live. “Please?” he begs, holding his hands up to ward me off.
I hold my arm back mid-swing and it drops to my side. “Kick?”
“You arsehole. You fucking broke my nose … again.”
I don’t know how I didn’t see it the second I got him on the ground. His hair is different, he always had this sandy blonde unwashed scruff. It’s now black and cut short. His beard is longer too, or I should say he now has one, since the last time I saw him he looked as baby faced as he did when we were kids.
“I knew I’d seen you before,” Ana says from over my shoulder.
“Baby, get back in the house.” I turn and glare at her. At least she had the sense to cover up. She’s wearing a thick wool jumper, boots and leggings.
“I’m not here to hurt either of you,” Kick says, sitting up.
“Why the fuck are you here? And how did you find us?”
“I saw your girl here on some show about eateries. It took me a second to work out who she was, though you don’t really forget a person you kill a brother for. Especially not your VP.”
“What are you doin’ here, Kick?”
“I need your help. I wanted out. They wouldn’t let me. Prez killed my dad, gunned him down in front of me like it was nothing. I just … I had to get out. The club’s gone crazy since your old man left.”
“My dad left the club?”
“You’re dad’s alive?” Ana asks incredulously. “Why have you never mentioned that?”
“Baby, I told you to go inside.”
“I’m not your club whore, Cade. You don’t get to order me around. I’m staying right where I am, thank
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