In a spin of his body, Owen punched me so hard the whole world shuddered. I tried to catch my breath, but everything moved. My eyes wouldn’t focus, and the pain spread out inside of me so violently, I barely noticed the porch rising to greet my face until it was too late.
Chapter Thirty-Six
DREW
My gut led me back to her.
Half the men thought I was crazy to go back to The Hut, most of them choosing instead to take the roads leading out of Babylon to try to find a trail once I’d quickly barked out orders to them that Owen was a rat and he was also about to die. There’d been shock from some, and little surprise from others as I’d pointed down the road with my face turning red.Fucking find him, I’d shouted.
But I knew Owen. I knew that fucker and the way he worked. He had the mind of a snake, and snakes always hid in plain sight, ready to attack those they needed to swallow the most.
He was running, but he wasn’t running without insurance first.
Kenny had led some of the men down one highway, Deeks leading the rest of the crew. All that was left as we entered the yard were Slater, Jedd, me, and surprisingly… the kid, Rubin, who said he wanted to stay close to me now I’d just outed him in front of his own father.
All the ghosts of the road and all my fears dressed as demons taunted me the entire ride back to our home, and when I pulled into the yard, all I saw was a nightmare happeningall over again. Only this time I was awake, not chained up and unconscious as Ayda watched me from the hands of my enemy. This time I could see it all.
Owen behind her.
Her hair in his hand, her face bloodied and swollen as her eyes remained shut and her legs looked weak.
Every curse word I’d ever known faded away, until nothing but silence rang in my ears, the sound of terror so deafening, I found my eyes scrunching shut for just a second before I spun the bike into position, not caring where it landed. Then I ran to her, eyes open and wide until I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.
My father.
Eric.
He was there, just as we’d planned, but obviously too late. Too late to save Ayda’s pain and too late to put a bullet in Owen’s temple, but he was there with a gun in his hand. His arms were raised high at Owen, unshaking and still as he studied his target through a skilled narrowed eye and waited patiently for the right moment to fire.
I was fucked. My breathing was ragged, a mixture of anger and dread stirring at once.
How many moments like this could we survive unscathed?
Three strikes we’d had.
Was this our out?
My nose curled, my teeth ground together and my jaw worked as I fisted my hands by my sides and turned my attention to Ayda and Owen.
Owen’s sadistic smile curled behind the wild mess of Ayda’s scrunched up hair, which he was holding in his fist, hiseyes going from left to right as he tried to do a mental count of everyone in sight.
“This isn’t exactly how I wanted this to go, Drew!” Owen called out from behind her; his gun aimed firmly at her temple as she swayed in his grip, her eyes fluttering open at the mention of my name. “But you always seem to find a way to make everything shit, don’t you?” Owen laughed maniacally, his voice high pitched and panicked, yet somehow sharp and threatening.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, aware of Jedd and Slater falling in line behind me, their guns aimed high, too.
“Howdoyou do that?” Owen barked. He shuffled on his feet, his movements jerky and awkward like he was hurt. It was then that I let my eyes travel down, and I saw the blood collecting on the wooden porch beneath his feet.
She’d got him. Somehow, unless Eric had got there first, my girl had got him. The pride I felt knowing she’d put up a fight made my chest swell.
“You’ve got to be the worst motherfucking president of a motorcycle club that’s ever fucking existed,” Owen hissed, his face turning sour as he watched us all and tugged again at Ayda’s hair.
My hands rose, showing him I had no weapon and no bullets to fire his way. “No arguments from me there, Owen,” I said as calmly as I could, despite the vengeance rising in my throat, burning so hot I wanted to be sick.
He looked at the men surrounding me, knowing he was outnumbered.
“Why’d ya have to come back?” he cried, his face scrunching up. “Things were better without you. Things were calmer—smoother when you were in prison. Nobody evenwhispered your name. It was like you didn’t exist, and it was fucking beautiful. You were gone. Dead. Another ghost… just like Eric fucking Tucker.”
I glanced at my father from the corner of my eyes for only a second, seeing his eerie stillness as he remained in place, unfazed by Owen’s words.