deny that. I leaned back in the chair with a small smile on my face.
Then the back door wrenched open. Raven skittered onto the back deck in what appeared to be his pajamas: an oversized shirt that hung to the hem of his loose shorts, and his face was deathly pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night. “I got his location.”
Blade stood up, his hand already at the knife in his back pocket, like he could teleport to Crave’s location and gut him as soon as he knew it. “Where is he?”
Raven’s dark blue eyes widened. “Here. He’s at the clubhouse.”
Gunnar rushed inside and hollered, calling for the other members to get their gear. I stood up so fast I kicked my coffee cup and spilled the contents across the back porch. I looked frantically around the back yard, like I’d see Crave pop out from behind a tree.
“Both of you,” Blade barked at Logan and Raven. “Inside. Upstairs.”
“He’s here for me,” Logan argued. “I can draw him out.”
“Yeah—he’s here for you, and he’s crazy,” I said. “If he sees you, he’s not going to hesitate to try and kill you.”
“And he’d hesitate with you?” Logan snapped.
“I don’t know,” I said, “But I think he’d use me as leverage to get to you.”
“I’m not risking it,” Blade said. Then his expression softened. “Logan. Please.”
Logan grimaced, but acquiesced. “Fine,” he said. “But if things go south—”
“Someone will get in contact,” I promised.
Blade nodded in agreement. Raven grabbed Logan by the back of his shirt and jerked him inside.
Inside, the enforcers were already strapping on their guns and knives, pulling on boots and jackets, and waiting for Blade’s orders. “Let’s go,” he said. “Spread out. Hit the perimeter. Rebel—be careful.”
Rebel nodded. Coop, Blade, and I went to the front door. Gunnar, Rebel, and Siren went to the back.
We stepped out onto the front porch and began to fan out, guns in hand. It wasn’t necessary, though.
As soon as he saw Blade, Crave stepped up from behind one of the club cages parked in the driveway. He had Tex in a rough hold, Tex’s arms wrenched behind his back, and a gun pressed to Tex’s temple. At his side, the same scrawny guy from the campus brandished a handgun wildly at the three of us, like he wasn’t sure where to aim.
Cold fear shot through me. Fear and rage. I remembered viscerally the cold metal of the gun pressed to my forehead and the wild look in Crave’s eyes when we fought at the campus. Blade shook his head slightly and shot me a look—a look I understood to mean wait.
“Blade,” Crave drawled, like the name tasted bad in his mouth. “I think you know why I’m here.”
Coop and I glanced at each other. We both had our guns drawn, pointed low. Blade looked unarmed, but I knew he had a knife tucked in his sleeve, ready to fly. “Let him go,” Blade said, low and dangerous.
“Don’t think so,” Crave said. “Send my boys out, and then we’ll see. We have some family business to figure out.”
“Logan and Rebel aren’t your family,” Blade said. “They’re mine. And all of Hell’s Ankhor’s. If you want to get to them, you’ll have to go through all of us.”
“I’m well on my way to doing that,” Crave snarled. He pushed the barrel of the gun harder into Tex’s temple. “If you want your little cowboy back safe, you’ll give me Logan.”
“Who’s little?” Tex snarked. He did have a few inches on Crave.
Crave drew the gun back and rammed the butt of it hard across Tex’s face—hard enough that it knocked his Stetson to the ground, and blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Tex grimaced. Not at the pain, though, I didn’t think, but at the sight of the gravel dust now covering the brim of his inky-black hat.
I had to bite back a grin. Of course Tex was more worried about his hat than the literal gun to his head. His faith in Blade was so steadfast, the risk of death hardly registered.
“I’m sick of you and your pansy-ass club,” Crave sneered. “First I’m going to punish those two wastes of a load I once called my sons. Then I’m going to get rid of this club once and for all, Blade, starting with you. A real club deserves this territory. A club with ambition.”
Movement at the side of the house caught my attention. Rebel was pressed flat to the exterior, gun