I left Sloane only after she’d calmed down enough to stop sobbing. A few minutes alone to collect herself before rejoining the party was what she’d asked for, so I was giving that to her. Now that Jacob was out of the party, she was safe.

Me? I was mad as hell and had nowhere to direct it. I was pretty sure Drew didn’t need any more ammunition to aim in Jacob’s direction, but he still needed to know that Jacob had inadvertently threatened us with the Navs… because I was certain that was how he planned on bringing down The Hounds, and that scared me. The Navs were dangerous adversaries.

I abandoned my heels for the rhinestone-covered tennis shoes I kept in my locker and headed out into the main room of the diner again. The tempo of the music had risen, and the rockabilly song that was being churned out had the crowd moving fast, generating heat that made beads of sweat prickle my skin as I made my way through the writhing bodies and smiling faces.

The contrast in temperature was a shock to the system when I finally made it to the open doors and the cold night air wrapped itself around me. The frigidness forced me to pull the leather jacket tight around my body as I looked around for any sign of Drew. I saw Deeks leaning against his bike, a beer in his hand as he spoke to Harry. Slater was pacing between the rows of bikes, his eyes flicking to the corner of the building before scanning the lot for signs of something out of place. Jedd was doing the same on the other side of the building.

This told me exactly where I needed to go.

I made my way to the area Slater was scrutinizing and continued farther back to the rear of the building, stopping inches short of the corner as a pained grunt blended with the drum solo mutedly pouring from the diner. I knew better than to rush around into a situation that I wasn’t sure of, so I continued to listen. The grunts were definitely Jacob’s, and I knew from the dull, muted flesh on flesh thuds that he was getting the beating of a lifetime, and I couldn’t find enough empathy to be sorry.

I leaned against the brick of the wall and closed my eyes, trying to find the right moment to step in, but that opportunity never came. It never came because the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked sliced through every other noise and had my instant attention. That wasn’t a sound that you could misinterpret, even as faint as it was for me to hear at a distance.

The conversation didn’t have to go on long for me to figure out what was happening.

“...The toughest bastard in all of Texas,” Jacob finished with a satisfied grunt.

I heard movement, but the lazy thump sounded very much to me like Jacob had taken himself out of the equation… thanks mostly to Drew, who I imagined was now facing off with Travis Gatlin—the Nav he’d just been introduced to as Jacob’s older brother.

I’d made so many promises before the party had started. I’d sworn that I would keep myself safe no matter what, but I think there was a part of me that had been prepared for action if it was needed. Wasn’t that why I was wearing a gun under my leather jacket? And why I had my phone pretty much attached to me?

It felt like walking through quicksand in my brain as I tried to come up with some kind of plan. I had two objectives here. Get some of the MC back here, to be at Drew’s disposal, and make sure he had time to gain control of the situation.

In order to assure the second, I couldn’t leave him alone, which left me only one way to obtain the first, and that would require my phone. I didn’t pull my punches on my message to Slater. He was closest. He would get there fastest. He would surely bring the others.

Nav here. Gun to Drew. Back of Diner. Now!

I hit send and replaced the phone in my pocket, sliding my hand to the gun and pulling it from the holster. I was trying my very best to quiet the loud voice in the back of my head screaming, Drew is gonna kill me if we get out of this alive.

Slipping the safety off, I held the gun with my index finger, running the length of the gun as I mentally followed every lesson Drew had given me before stepping to the corner. I shot up a quick prayer to whoever was listening that they weren’t facing the corner I was hiding behind. That would just fuck everything up, and then I would be leverage for Travis, which was not something I wanted to be.

I edged my way to the corner as quietly as I could and peered around the brick surreptitiously—silently releasing the breath I’d been holding. Jacob was on the ground against the wall, curled in with his head dropped to his chest facing the other direction. Drew was standing over him, and the third figure, who was wearing a Nav’s cut, was standing with his legs shoulder-width apart and one hand on the gun that was only inches from Drew’s skull.

I swallowed compulsively, that salt wash that preceded nausea filling my mouth and leaving me jittery. I stopped breathing completely as I tested a step forward, careful of what was under foot as I moved. Travis didn’t so much as twitch as I moved. He just stared at the back of Drew’s head and then down at his brother as though he expected him to do something, while I moved as silently as I could, heel to toe then pausing on every step.

The moment I cocked the gun I knew I had his full attention and the cold steel that pressed against his head just behind his ear made him stiffen.

“Give me the gun,” I said quietly, proud of the steadiness in my tone.

Drew’s eyes closed instantly, the sagging of his shoulders and slow exhale a sure sign that hearing my voice was the last thing he’d wanted.

Travis, Trigger, or whatever he was known as barely even flinched as he turned his attention to me and raised a brow.

“Ayda Hanagan,” he said smoothly, without any concern whatsoever. “Time changes us all, I see.” His voice was so calm, so eerie, it made my skin ripple more than Chester Cortez’s ever did.

I huffed out a humorless laugh. “Sure does, and some of us learn from our mistakes. You need to keep your brother on a leash.”

The only reaction to my statement of Jacob was a flick of Travis’ eyes in his brother’s direction. Other than that there was nothing. I desperately wanted to hear some sign of our guys approaching to give us more numbers, but I knew they weren’t that stupid. They would be in stealth mode, formulating a plan.

“Give me your gun,” I demanded again.

Travis didn’t move to give me his weapon. He didn’t even twitch under my gun’s aim or scrutiny. He was fearless—a mental tactician waiting for the right opportunity to disarm me. I was sure about that.

“Ayda,” Drew muttered under his breath, dropping his chin to his chest.

“I’d listen to that edge in your man’s voice, sweetheart,” Travis said without concern.

“Don’t you call her sweetheart,” Drew growled suddenly, his eyes opening as he burned holes in the ground. His fists twitched and clenched by his side. “Put a bullet in the back of my skull, by all means. But don’t you dare call her…”

Travis pushed the gun harder into Drew’s head. “Careful what you wish for, Tucker. A lot of men would thank me for silencing you.”

Travis was so intent on Drew, he didn’t see Slater come from where I’d slipped around the building, but he did see Jedd step around the opposite side, a Glock in either hand and .38 special in his belt.

Backup had arrived.

“You sure you don’t want to give me that gun?” I asked sweetly, taking the second of surprise we had to glance at Slater over my shoulder. “It may… uncomplicate matters.”

Travis glanced between Slater, Jedd, and me before a small smile curled one corner of his mouth up. He slowly pulled the gun back away from Drew’s head, but Drew didn’t move. He didn’t even look up.

“This gun?” Travis smirked, waving it around in the air like it didn’t matter.

Something didn’t feel right. My gun was still trained to Travis’ head, but there was no way he should have been so at ease when he was outnumbered four to one. If he’d given me his gun and backed down, I probably would have backed away and left them to deal with the MC business, but he wasn’t giving me his weapon, and he was way too relaxed. It made me twitchy.

Thankfully Slater reached me in his slow step. He moved his Sig to his left hand and reached with his right to take over the one I had to Travis’ head, but I shook my head and tipped my chin toward where Travis was waving the gun around.

Taking one last look at the gun in his hand, Travis tossed it through the air until the hunk of metal landed just a few feet in front of Slater and me.

Still, Drew didn’t move.

“Now what?” Travis asked sarcastically.