Slash tended to do that. Rub the spot where he had a scar when he talked about an old war story. So far, though, he'd never touched the scars on his face. No one had been brave enough to ask outright. I doubt we ever would.
"Luckily, our local cartel kingpin is single," I said, giving Slash a smirk. "But keep him away from Danny, or we're going to have issues," I warned.
"Got it," Slash agreed, casting one last glance at Danny before walking away.
Eventually, as predicted, Dezi left with the three women. Cary left with his chick with the daddy issues. Slash took off ahead of Seth and Finn who were leading girls back to the club.
Leaving me to settle everyone's tabs, as usual, before heading out myself.
I'd had my heart set on a ride. Just a couple minutes of alone time before going back to the clubhouse that was likely full of sex sounds, reminding me how long it had been since I'd had time to bring a woman back for some fun.
And I'd only managed to get half a street away before the bike crapped out on me. Something electrical, most likely. I'd have to get a look at it once I got it back home.
I was just considering if I should roll it home, or just leave it for Repo to pick up in the morning and take back to his garage when Danny happened upon me again.
"Christ, are you always such a b—" I started, too frustrated to come up with anything better to say. Only I didn't even get to say it.
Because bullets exploded in the wall behind her.
"Fuck," Danny hissed, dropping to a crouch as I rushed forward, reaching for my gun even as she produced her own.
"Move!" I snapped, shoving at her as the bullets kept coming.
"Where the fuck are they coming from?" she asked as I all but shoved her into the partially opened gate behind the building.
"Don't fucking know," I grumbled, falling into step with her as we ran down the alley behind the buildings.
"They stopped," Danny said, pulling to a stop, taking a deep breath, looking around.
"They're probably re-load... fuck," I hissed as they started up again, sounding closer. Way, way too close.
Adrenaline sparked off each nerve ending as I looked forward, realizing we were trapped in. The only exit was the direction we'd come in.
"Fuck," I snapped again, mind spinning.
"Let's—" Danny started, trailing off on a gasp as a bullet landed in the brick beside her, missing her by an inch.
Instinct kicking in, I reached down, grabbing her free hand, and pulling her along with me. Finding a small gap between buildings that looked like it led out to the street again, just beyond a gate, I yanked hard on her arm, pushing her forward in front of me, then rushing in behind her.
"Damnit," Danny yelped, yanking on the thick chains holding the gate closed. "We have to climb it," she said, tucking away her gun, and reaching upward to start.
"The fuck are you doing?" I snapped when the bullets started to make their way down the smaller alley. Reaching up, I grabbed the waistband of her pants at the center of her back, yanking her back down, tossing her toward the ground, and covering her body with my own.
Instinct.
It was just instinct.
Protect the women.
It was a phrase woven into the fabric of my soul. It was something I'd heard my father and uncles say too many times to count.
Above all else, we always protected the women.
The difference was, those were our women.
This was a woman who would likely step over my bullet-riddled body without so much as offering to call an ambulance.
Still, the instinct was there.
Of course, it was like trying to help a raccoon out of a trap. They had nothing but claws and teeth and a deep-seated mistrust of your kind.
Danny pushed and shoved and scratched.
"I don't need you to fucking protect me," Danny hissed, raking her nails across my neck as I held her down.
"Shut the fuck up," I whisper-yelled at her, reaching down to press a hand over her mouth, not wanting whoever was shooting to know we were still alive. But if they were going to come to check, I wanted to be able to hear them approach as well.
It wasn't until the woman elbowed me in the goddamn ribs that I released her. Mostly out of shock.
"There's a door, you fucking idiot," she snapped, glowering up at me as she pointed across the narrow alley toward where there looked to be a basement walkout to whatever the fuck building it was above.
The chances of it being open were slight.
But better than staying sitting ducks in the off chance it might have been left unlocked.
"It's the old record store," Danny reminded me.
Which meant it had been abandoned since before I was born.