Cleaning my house has never been something I enjoy. It’s just going to get messy again, so what’s the point? However, I have nervous energy. Deke called and is going to face some of his demons with his family today, and hopefully lay them to rest. Not to mention hopefully make this JK asshole go away.

I can’t imagine what he feels like. It was so hard for him to open up to me, yet he did it. With his father there at this meeting, Lord knows what sparks will fly. I don’t want that for him. Not that he can’t handle it, but he’s lived through enough guilt. He needs to be free of it once and for all. It’s what we all want—to live free.

It’s my day off from both places, and I wish I had to work. I need something else to do besides clean the damn house.

Brewer joins me, wagging his tail and following me throughout the house. Although, he likes his naps on the way, obviously not having the nervous energy I do.

After taking the laundry to the washer and starting it, I move out into the living room, noting not much needs to be done. That’s both good and bad.

I called Breelyn, Skyler, and Avery, hoping to get my mind off everything. It helped for a moment. As soon as I was off the phone, though, the energy was back. We plan to have a girls’ night on the first night we all get off work.

X has been good, and so has Schade’s. Yes, Schade was a little pissed off at me for just leaving and gave me shit for it, but he’s over it, and now we’re good. Princess runs a tight ship, and I’m finding myself liking it there, too.

Loud pops surround me. Glass shatters and falls to the carpet. Fear takes over as I fall to the ground. More shots. Gunshots. At my house. Crashing through windows, walls, and through furniture.

Brewer barks. I feel his hard body on top of mine. It doesn’t even register that my dog is protecting me.

It takes me a moment as my house gets blown up around me before I get out from under Brewer, crawl over to the gun cabinet, and pull out my piece.

Darting to the bedroom, Brewer right beside me, I look out the window and see a lone black car, windows tinted and plates covered. Both the passenger side front and back windows are open, and two assholes, whose faces are covered, are shooting up my house.

Fuck!

As I lift my gun to take a shot, they drive off, squealing their tires down the road.

It’s not until I see their taillights brake as the car turns that it hits me.

A drive-by.

Holy shit. A drive-by shooting. Exactly like what happened to my parents.

My insides seize at that thought as a fear I haven’t felt in years takes over. I rush to find my phone, dialing the one person I need.

“In the middle of somethin’,” Deke answers on the second ring.

“Drive-by. I’m fine, but they blew my house up,” I get out, my voice not having its usual strength.

I bend down and give Brewer a rub, trying to calm him from the action and looking him over to make sure he’s not hurt. Thank Christ, he’s not.

“Fuck.” I hear some muffles on the other side of the phone. “Be there in ten. Are they gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have your gun?”

I look down at the silver in my hand, the weight of it giving me little comfort. “Yeah.”

“Baby, breathe. I’ll be there in ten.” He disconnects as I fall to the floor by my bed, my emotions taking over.

My parents died in my childhood home. Assholes shot up the house when I wasn’t there. Killed them both. They were in the kitchen, which was a direct aim from the road, and were hit several times.

Now my house. Shot up.

I try to stop the thoughts, but they whirl around like a cyclone. I rest my head on my knees, willing them to go away.

Brewer lays his head in my lap as everything comes crashing down at once. Why me? Why this? Haven’t I suffered enough, living without my parents after such a heinous act? Why repeat it?

It feels like forever before Deke charges into the bedroom, scoops me up in his arms, and places me on the bed.

Brewer barks at him, but one command, and my dog listens to him.

Before I can say anything, Deke’s inspecting me, roaming his hands up and down my body.

“Clean,” he calls out, and then I see a few of the Ravage MC men come into the room.

Once again, Brewer barks, coming to my side. Deke leans down, rubbing him and telling him to chill. Brewer once again listens.

“I didn’t get hit,” I croak out. “They drove off. Black, four-door Chevrolet Impala, blacked out windows and plates. Both passenger windows open, shooting out. Black masks, but their hands weren’t covered. Both Caucasian.”

“Damn, baby,” Deke says, impressed, as Cruz stands in the doorway, taking it all in.

Coming up behind Cruz is GT, Deke’s father. I have no clue what went down, but him being here should be a good sign. Or maybe it’s just me keeping up hope. Hope that this shit will be done.

“My … parents, they had a drive-by.”

Deke cradles me in his arms. “Know that, babe. I’ll get you out of here, and then figure out what the fuck this is.” Deke looks at Coop, who nods his head once. “Get anything you don’t want to see destroyed together. We’re going to the clubhouse.”

This surprises me, but I shake it off, nod, and pull out a bag. I hear the guys going through each room. Me, I throw in clothes and shoes, stuffing it as full as possible. Grabbing another bag, I throw in my bathroom crap. Then I finally move to my closet, pulling down the worn and torn shoebox. It’s the only thing I have left of my parents. I tuck it under my arm, grab some cash, my gun and bullets, and head out into the living room.

“Comin’ to stay with me, sweet thing?” Ryker says, and then Deke is there, hand at Ryker’s throat. Ryker just smiles. “What can I say? Women love me.”

“Only woman you’ve gotta worry about is Austyn. Remember that.” Deke pushes off Ryker, grabs both my bags, and hauls them out of the house, then he comes back, Brewer following him the entire time.

I watch as my Harley is loaded into the back of a box truck by Jacks and Green. Deke tosses them the keys to my Jeep, and they hook it up to the hitch on the back. Guess I don’t have to worry about my vehicles.

“Nothin’ fancy with the bullets,” GT says, holding one in his hand. “Dime a dozen. We’ll get the feed from the streets around the house pulled.”

Just then, sirens are heard in the distance.

“Clear out,” Cruz orders, and everyone piles out. “Deke, bring her to the clubhouse. You two can camp downstairs.”

Deke nods.

“You don’t want the cops in this?” I ask him as he helps me in the truck.

He doesn’t answer until he comes around and gets in. “No. They’ll contact you. You say you weren’t home. They’ll want to do a report, but you won’t know shit because you weren’t there. You have no enemies. They’ll let it ride.”

“Got it.” I rest my head back on the seat as we pass the cops heading toward my house, Brewer sitting at my feet. Someone must have heard the shots. Still, it took Deke ten minutes to get to me.

The drive doesn’t register, neither does going into the clubhouse, down the stairs, into a room, or even Brewer’s paw steps. Not until the door clicks shuts does my attention catch.

Deke’s concerned gaze comes to me, and I don’t think. I race to him and burrow my head into his chest as he wraps his arms around my body.

“You’re okay, Ry,” he assures, lifting me and holding me in his arms as he sits on the bed. “Give me all those trembles.”

I do. The fear of my parents going out like that, their last breaths, their last thoughts when it was going down—it all bombards me in a rush, and I have no choice but to give it to Deke. All of it. He’s such a rock, taking in everything I give him.

Brewer whines as he lies down, letting me give all of this to Deke.

“I’m gonna make this okay for you, Rylie. I swear it.”

I nod absently, hearing him, but unsure of many things right now. This isn’t me. This weak, trembling woman. I’ve always been strong. The only time I wasn’t was when my parents died.

It feels like hours later, but probably is only minutes, when Deke asks me to recall exactly what happened to me—sounds I heard, thoughts I had. I relive it all. It’s easier wrapped in his strength. Having someone to lean on when I haven’t had that in so many years. He takes it and holds me tighter, giving me everything.

My body begins to calm and feelings start to recede.

“I’m okay, Deke. Thank you,” I whisper into his shirt.

Brewer sneezes from the floor, but doesn’t move.

Deke massages my back, comforting and relaxing me. “Good. Glad to hear it. I need to get upstairs and find out what’s going on. Need to get in the loop about this and JK. I’ll send Princess down here to stay with you. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Right.” I can’t fall apart now; there’s shit to sort.

Pulling deep within myself, I finally find what I was searching for—the tough bitch who doesn’t let anything get her down. Nor will this. We’ll find out who this is and take care of it.

“Sounds good. Let me know what you need me to do.”

He pulls away and kisses my lips. “There’s my strong girl. This shit will be sorted.” He kisses me again, plants my ass on the bed, and then disappears. And surprisingly, after all the shit that happened, I don’t feel the fear anymore. I feel the anger.

My mind spinning, I call Charlie, then my friends, wondering if they’ve heard about the shooting. None of them are happy.