Page 18 of My Christmas Biker
Fuck. I had to get to Las Vegas as fast as possible. The sooner I got Ginny home and my club filled in, the faster we could investigate this threat. I couldn’t shake the idea that the Crimson Skulls never really broke up. They just hunkered down, grew their numbers, and waited for the right moment to exact their revenge. That war we thought we ended? Maybe it never stopped.
The thought terrified me because an enemy as ruthless as the Crimson Skulls would murder everyone I loved and cared about, and they wouldn’t stop until every member of the club was dead.
Headlights appeared in my rearview mirror again, and I knew it was the black truck before I could confirm it.
Son of a bitch!
“What’s the matter?” Ginny asked, turning her head to stare at me. “You’re growling.”
Yeah, I might have cursed aloud instead of in my head. We were being followed—more than that. I’d say intimidated and hunted, not that I’d let that happen. I was an old dog with plenty of tricks. One fucking truck and a rival MC member weren’t gonna stop me from gaining the upper hand.
I’d fight to the death to protect Ginny.
When you pushed a rabid dog into a corner, you had better run before it attacked. There would be no mercy.
“Babe, gonna need you to duck down and keep that pretty head of red hair hidden as much as possible.”
She paled. “Why?”
“We’re being followed.”
Chapter 6 Gingersnap
Followed? What did he mean by that?
Was the black truck coming back?
“Ginny, baby, I need you to listen. No questions. Just obey me because I have to know you’ll stay safe.”
What the hell was he talking about? Safe from what? The truck with the skull? I didn’t have a clue what that meant or why the person driving it was a threat.
Wait. Is this the person who killed my father?
“Brick?” My voice shook as the emotional implication of what this could mean hit me. Was the murderer after me and Brick now?
“I need you to hand me the gun in my glove box.”
Shit. He’d never ask me if he didn’t suspect something. Right?
My fingers trembled as I opened the glove box, reached for the gun, and handed it over. Brick took it from me, placing it on the seat before his hand held mine, interlacing our fingers. He held my hand tight, helping the quiver subside.
“I always keep a loaded weapon with me, but the safety is on, and I won’t use it unless necessary. Feel me?”
I didn’t trust my voice. Nodding, I gripped his hand tighter.
“I know this is scary, but I’m with you. I won’t let anything happen to you, Ginny. I’m still keeping that promise to Hesh.”
I blinked, processing what he said.
“You’re gonna be fine. I swear it. Keep your head down. Let me keep you safe. Okay, Baby?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Good girl,” he praised and lifted my hand, kissing the top before he released it.
I watched as he reached for the gun, eyes on the road and never bothering to look at the weapon. It occurred to me that he touched it with enough familiarity that he didn’t need to look at it to use it. With one hand on the wheel, the other palmed the gun, Brick staying alert as I saw the headlights from another vehicle lighting up the interior of the truck.
An engine revved behind us.