I’d lost sight of Trigger. My eyes were fixed firmly on the dead Jacob Hove lying at Ayda’s feet. His ghostly stare was aimed right at me, all the light removed from his features. His mouth hung open, the tongue that had thrown so many insults our way now hanging free like he was a stray shot dog in the middle of the street no one gave a fuck about.

Of all the moves I’d expected from Trigger, that had been the last.

He’d just killed his brother.

Blood brother.

Fucking blood.

My chest was rising and falling hard as I tried to remember how to move. I was on my back on the ground, my arm still in the air with my head and hand raised. Frozen.

“If you’re going to shoot someone, you can’t waste time, Ayda,” Trigger said without any grief in his voice whatsoever. “The moment that finger hits the trigger, you pull. You pause, you die. Your team loses. The victory of war starts to slip from your fingers. Do you honestly think Jacob would have thought twice about shooting you in the head if the gun had been in the other hand?” He spun on the heels of his feet just as I looked back to find him. “And you’re just too pretty to die.”

The bastard looked happy.

Ayda stared at Trigger in abject horror, her mouth opening and closing as she fought to remember the order of muscular movement that would help her breathe. “He was your brother, Travis.”

Trigger spun to face her, his eyes wild with that sick sort of glee you see in mental patients. His response came in a shout that pushed his veins out in his neck and temple and cause saliva to gather at the sides of his mouth. “He was a liability to my club. A common rapist who had no problem dumping that shit on my club’s doorstep. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t have been the last.”

“He was your brother,” she said again, confusion making her eyes glassy.

Trigger sneered at her, his disgust for her emotional response clear. “He was stealing the meth as quickly as we were cooking it. He was a fucking tweaker. The stupid fuck was selling the shit to his students, and it was only a matter of time until that led right back to the Navs. Fuck, I’ve covered for the little bastard most of his fucking life. He was a liability—a liability that was about to bring heat down on my club. Not on my watch.”

He spat on the floor and rubbed his hands over his shorn hair.

“Thank you for your help with that.”

“You bastard.”

He was so focused on Ayda, I managed to tuck my legs under my ass and push up on all fours, keeping my eyes trained on him while the rest of my men held the other Navs down. With one push, I was up, standing as carefully and silently as I could until I was only a few paces behind him.

“Jacob deserved to die months ago. Don’t act like you didn’t want rid of him, too. You just gave us the opportunity to pin his death on someone else,” he shouted. “Seems like The Hounds aren’t as fucking useless as everyone in the MC world thinks after all.”

I saw Slater move on my left, and Jedd move on my right. I held my hands up to both of them, glancing each way and silently ordering them to stand down.

If anyone was going to take this asshole out, it was me.

“Ayda,” I said calmly.

Her eyes moved slowly from Trigger to me. For a moment they were completely vacant, but before I could say anything more, her eyes dropped to the gun in her hand and the reality of the situation settled over her. If I’d thought she was pale before, it was nothing to the ghost staring up at me now.

I gave her my deepest stare, trying to connect some life back into her gaze.

“Do you remember what I’ve taught you?” I raised my brows. “My way, not Sutton’s,” I hinted.

The words infiltrated a small part of the fog as though I was giving her a lifeline, and she nodded in understanding.

Good girl, I thought.

“I need you to do it. No questions.”

Trigger’s head was snapping between the two of us now, his amusement growing as he tried to decipher the unspoken message I was delivering.

“Do you understand me?” I asked her. “No. Questions.”

Ayda sucked in a deep breath and nodded as another wave of fortitude washed over her. She didn’t move her gaze from mine. She just waited, ready for whatever came next.

Good girl.

“What the fuck are you two lovers trying to—?”

“Shit,” I heard Slater mutter.

Raising my left arm out to the side, I reached over and tapped the bicep, pointing to the edge of it and telling her where her first live target was going to be.

“Go,” I growled, tensing my whole body, waiting for the pain.

There was no hesitation. No sooner had I closed my eyes, the shot rang out, followed by a restrained whimper.

Time went slow when you knew there was a bullet aiming your way. My heart was beating hard, hoping beyond all hope she wasn’t so far off the mark as to hit it, when I felt the graze of the bullet tear through my skin enough to cause a searing burn flash through my whole fucking arm.

I gritted my teeth and growled out as the agony, like a flaming hot poker, seemed to spread up my arm, down my chest, and straight into my groin. I just didn’t have time to let myself feel the luxury of self-pity. I dug deep, remembering how pain was my friend, and before I knew it I was opening my eyes and stepping forward without any hesitation whatsoever.

My right, uninjured arm swung wildly through the air, connecting with the side of Trigger’s jaw and catching him by surprise. His wild eyes caught mine just before they rolled into the back of his head and he went down like a sack of shit, his face smashing against the ground with a heavy thud.

“Ayda, drop the fucking gun,” Slater commanded, rushing toward her.

She opened her hands and let the Glock fall to her feet before she backed away, in the opposite direction of Jacob’s prone body.

As soon as I saw she was backing into one of my brothers, I turned to Slater and blew all the air out of my cheeks as he came to stand in front of me.

“You’re a crazy fucking bastard, Tucker,” he breathed, shaking his head and curling his fists in front of me.

“Yeah, now tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your girl is gonna kill you for this.”

“I said something I don’t know, Slate.”

“The things I do for you.” He sighed.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not going to enjoy this.” I managed to smirk as I prepared myself.

“Just a little bit.”

“Do your worst.”

Slater wasted no time in throwing a three-punch combo at me. One across the face, one in the stomach, one in the ribs, causing me to sway as my vision went blurry, and I bent forward.

“Again?” he asked.

“No!” Ayda shouted angrily, unable to rush forward as an arm wrapped around her middle to keep her away. “No more.”

My mouth curled up at the corner as I stared up at her through one good eye and one that was fucked because Slater’s big ass fucking HOB ring had caught it. God, I loved that woman. I loved her need to protect me. I loved feeling like I had someone in my corner, no matter what the fight, no matter what the result, no matter where things were going to go.

I fucking loved her.

But I needed to do this to save her.

I spat out the small collection of blood from my mouth, never looking away from her before I wiped the back of my hand across my lips and winked at her with affection.

“I love you, darlin’. Don’t be too mad.” Then I turned back to look up at Slater, my command instant and the smile soon being wiped from my face before I could even finish saying it. “Go.”

He went, and he made it count.

The last thing I remembered was falling to the ground beside Travis Gatlin, the president of The Navarro Rifles, and Slater’s voice as he picked up his cell and made the call.

“Chief Sutton, this is Slater Portman of The Hounds of Babylon MC. We’re at Rusty’s diner and we’ve been attacked by the Navarro Rifles. Tucker is shot and down. There’s a body count, too. We need your help, sir. We can’t restrain the rest of the attackers for much longer. We need your help... now.”