“We did not!” Gwen cried. “He had Gigi by the throat!”
“He was hurting her!” Flo added.
“If I’d hurt her, she wouldn’t be standin’ there shootin’ her mouth off at me,” Nick muttered. “After the shit she pulled, throwin’ accusations about kidnappin’ our own fuckin’ nephew, siccing the fuckin’ Feds on us… Bitch deserves whatever hurt I dish out.”
The twins did not move, but both of their gazes snapped to Georgia, then shifted down the line to me, then Flo, then Gwen in perfect sync.
“Out,” Holden/Hunter barked. “Car’s waiting at the curb.”
It wasn’t immediately clear who, specifically, he was speaking to. Thus, no one moved. It wasn’t until he took two strides closer, crossed his arms over his chest, and growled “Move your asses. Now.” that I realized he meant all four of us.
Well, six, including Agatha and Sally. Though, they were already wandering toward the door, staring at the twins with the same lovelorn expression I imagined I wore when I was deep in the third act of a cowboy romance novel.
“What doesnowmean? Get in the fucking car!”
We jolted into motion at Hunter/Holden’s barked command. I grabbed Georgia by the hand and dragged her with me as I rounded the bar. Flo did the same with Gwen. We had to squeeze past the O’Banions in the process, and I resisted the urge to scratch out their eyeballs with my fingernails.
Barely.
“You come back here, Georgia, we got problems,” Shane called after us when we were halfway to the door.
Gigi’s hand convulsed around mine.
Before I could snap back, one of the twins did it for me.
“You got plenty of problems, O’Banion,” he said flatly. “But none include any of the women in this room. We clear on that?”
“Stay out of this, Graves,” Nick warned. “This is family shit. Doesn’t concern you.”
“You’re right,” Holden-maybe-Hunter agreed. “It is family shit.Myfamily shit. That’s my brother’s woman holding ice to her cheek. She’s family. I promise you, he will have something to say about you putting your hands on her.”
“So will I,” Hunter-maybe-Holden murmured, a slow, scary grin spreading across his face. “Soon.”
Oh, boy.
All six women filed out the door, the twins on our heels. Sally’s minivan was now double-parked directly behind the row of motorcycles, blocking them in. One of the black Gravewatch SUVs had pulled up directly behind it — still running, hazard lights flashing. As we watched, another vehicle pulled to a stop in the lineup.
A brand new Ford Bronco.
Given the way Gwen sucked in a breath at the sight of it, I had a pretty solid suspicion who was behind the wheel. This suspicion was confirmed when the door swung open and Graham Graves stepped down onto the street. He looked scarier than ever, his expression set in stone. His eyes had gone dark with fury and they darkened more still as they swept over Gwen, taking in the sight of the ice on her cheek.
“I think I’m in trouble,” Gwen whispered from beside me.
I didn’t respond. I was too busy watching yet another vehicle pull to the side of the road. A black, unmarked police cruiser. One I recognized even before Cade alighted from it.
His expression was just as unhappy as Graham’s. When he spotted me standing in the crowd, his brows pulled into a deep furrow and the muscle in his cheek began to tick with barely-contained rage.
“I think I am, too,” I whispered back.
* * *
The ride back to Cade’s house was tense to begin with. It grew even tenser when I hopped out of his car along with Georgia at The Sea Witch.
Make thatattemptedto hop.
His hand flew out and caught me around the wrist before I got so much as a finger on the door handle. Georgia had already disappeared inside. I was on my own.
Damn and blast.