As Gumby navigated the curvy roads with skill, Screw pulled his phone out.
911. In my truck. CDMC in pursuit. Need diversion. Rudd Rd. 10 min out.
As soon as he saw the text, Copper would know Screw had blatantly ignored a direct order and gone to the party. He couldn’t worry about that now though.
“I can’t take these fucking turns fast in this goddammed truck,” Gumby growled out as he was forced to slow and avoid careening off the edge of the mountainside.
The sound of shattering glass had both men cursing. “They hit the side mirror. I’m gonna return fire,” Screw yelled as he pulled a gun from his glove box.
“Don’t you dare get your ass shot, you hear me?”
He loaded the magazine then cocked the gun. “Not before you get a chance to ream it, you mean?”
When Gumby shot him an exasperated look, he winked before lowering his window and aiming back toward the truck.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Gumby mumbled.
For the next few minutes, Screw worked to hold off the fucking CDMC with one damn gun. He got in a few good shots, taking out a few headlights and even hitting a windshield which was probably the only reason their followers hadn’t overtaken them and run them off the road.
Bullets pinged off his truck, making Swiss cheese out of the damn thing, but thankfully their aim sucked and he remained gunshot free.
“Where the fuck is our backup?” Gumby yelled above the sound of cracking glass as the rear windshield splintered. Cold air whooshed into the car through Screw’s open window making both men shiver.
“Fuck if I know.”
Though in his gut he knew it would never happen, part of him feared Copper had left him to dangle in the wind as payment for his disobedience.
The road changed, straightening out as they moved from the mountain to flatter terrain. Screw’s truck whizzed past a crossroad and immediately, an eighteen-wheeler pulled out, blocking the entire road.
“Holy shit!”
An ear-piercing screech of brakes followed by the crunch of twisting metal rent the night air.
“Fuck yes!” Screw yelled, pumping a fist in the air as Gumby slowed to a complete stop a half mile down the road.
The smell of burning rubber filled the air, owning to the long skid marks left by whichever Disciple had tried and failed to stop before hitting the truck.
“The fuck?” Gumby swiveled in his seat. “That your club?”
“It’s gotta be.”
“Where’d they get the semi?”
“Who knows.” Screw glanced around the quiet street. “We shouldn’t stick around here. You good?”
“Yeah.” Gumby hit the gas again, glancing in the rearview mirror as he drove. “I’m good, you?”
Screw ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I’m fine.”
A mile down, three cars lined the side of the road. Still too fucking cold and icy for bikes.
“That’s Copper’s SUV. Pull over.” His stomach bottomed out. Time to pay the piper.
“Hey,” Gumby said after he braked behind Copper’s vehicle.
“Yeah?”
Gumby reached out and grabbed his hand, out of sight of any of the Handlers. “Don’t know if it’ll make a lick of difference with your prez, but I’ve got your back.” Then he linked their fingers and gave a squeeze.
Their gazes met and Screw would have loved to kiss him just then. Love to draw some calm and strength from the man, because his nerves had hit an all-time high. If there ever was a time to lay off the jokes, this was it. Copper needed to know how seriously Screw took his new position in the club, right before he ripped the enforcer patch right off Screw’s cut.
“Makes a fuckton of difference to me,” he said before opening the door, stepping out, and coming face to face with the angriest scowl he’d ever seen on his president.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE DOOR FLEW open without warning, slamming hard against the wall as Copper stormed into Jazz’s house followed by Zach, Rocket, LJ and finally a subdued Screw and Gumby.
Both she and Toni shrieked then sprung up from their spots on the couch. “Holy shit!” Toni yelled.
Shell rushed down the hallway from the bathroom. “What was that?”
The sight of both Screw and Gumby in her home, unharmed, had pounds of tension lifting from her shoulders. Jazz placed a hand over her chest as her heart beat out an erratic rhythm. “Jesus, guys, you scared the crap out of us. Maybe a little less storm-the-castle next time, huh?”
Then she took in the sight of Copper’s face.
Yikes.
His green eyes had darkened to near black. Jazz tried to avoid his glare. Who knew what would happen if she got caught in his crosshairs? She might be burned to ash. Those mitt sized hands fisted and opened at his sides over and over. The veins in his arms bulged like the Hulk’s did when he ripped off his shirt. He held his large body so stiff and rigid if he bumped his shoulder, an arm might fall off. And she wouldn’t be surprised if he started beating someone with it.