Chapter Twenty-Four
Justice
Winchester’s burning whatever he’s cooking in the kitchen this morning. The smell of burned bacon fills my nostrils as I make my way downstairs. Creed’s sitting at a table, going over a map with Reaper when Devil walks in, hands on her hips and a look on her face that could scare a god.
“I’m going grocery shopping,” she announces.
Creed doesn’t even look up. “You don’t need to. I’ll send a brother.”
“The last time you did that, I ended up with twenty cans of beans and enough rice to feed the whole damn state of Florida,” she fires back. “We need variety, Creed. Vegetables. Real food.”
Reaper snorts. “Beans and rice are real food.”
Her glare could melt steel. “You can survive on them then.”
Creed sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. But you’re not going alone. Take four brothers with you.”
“Deal.”
Before anyone else can speak, my hand’s already in the air. “I’ll go.”
Creed’s eyes flick to me, sharp and questioning. “You volunteering ‘cause you like grocery runs or ‘cause you’re bored?”
“Neither. Just keeping your old lady safe,” I answer, tone flat. It’s the truth, but it earns me a grunt that sounds halfway between approval and suspicion.
Devil smirks, victorious. “Good. We leave in ten.”
Heading down the hall, I find Jet sitting on the couch in the rec room, flipping through a magazine. Her hair’s up, a few strands falling against her neck. She looks up, and her eyes brighten when she sees me.
“Going somewhere?” she asks.
“Yeah. Grocery run with Devil and a few of the guys.”
“Can I come?”
The question hits out of nowhere. She’s been cooped up here since everything went down with the Rivet Knights. For a second, the smart move would be to tell her no, to clear it with Creed first.
“Yeah. Grab your shoes.”
She grins, quick and genuine, and something twists in the center of my chest at seeing Jet look so happy. I’d take her on a million runs for groceries if she’d smile at me like that.
The ride to the store’s smooth. Late afternoon sun burns low over Jacksonville, orange bleeding into steel-gray.
Devil’s in the passenger seat of the SUV, sunglasses on, muttering about produce.
Jet sits behind her, chatting with Coop and Tash.
Wrench and Digger follow behind us on bikes, engines rumbling low.
When we pull into the lot, Devil’s all business. “We’ll be quick,” she says, grabbing a list the length of her arm. “We’ll split up to make this quicker. Don’t let me catch any of you sneaking beer into the trolley.”
Her words get a few laughs, even from Jet, and it feels almost normal. We move through the aisles, putting milk, coffee and sugar in the cart. The boring shit you forget we actually need to live.
I’m loading a case of water into the trolley when I hear it—raised voices outside. The sound cuts through the store’s hum. Two men are shouting at the back of the store. Something about parking, maybe. The tone’s wrong, though.
“Stay with Devil,” I mutter to Coop, already heading for the disturbance.
One guy’s shoving the other, fake as hell. The second he spots me, they bolt, splitting in opposite directions.
“Justice!” Wrench shouts. “Outside, white van, left side!”
Sprinting for the front of the store, someone has lit a garbage can on fire in the entrance. I hear squealing but can’t see much else through the smoke.
“Jet,” Devil screams. “Where’s Jet?”
Shoppers scream. Devil’s coughing, waving through the haze. Coop’s dragging her back. Tash is down, he’s bleeding from his side. My heart stutters.
Moving back inside, I head straight for Devil.
“Time to move!” I bark, grabbing Devil’s arm and shoving her toward the door. “Now!”
Coop has the SUV in front of the store. Wrench climbs in the back and slides over, as I push Devil into the back of the car. Before we leave, I bend down to check Tash. His eyes are glassy, and there’s no pulse.
Fuck.
Can’t think about it now. Creed’s old lady is shaking, and the only way we make this right is by staying alive. I climb into the SUV beside her and slam the door shut.
“Devil, head down between your knees,” I order.
“What?”
“Until we know it’s safe. Do it.”
Devil’s eyes go wide, but she does as she’s told. Digger rides behind us as we speed back to the compound.
The ride is silent except for the engines. Every second stretches like wire, tight and about to snap.
Inside the compound, Creed’s waiting at the gates, face carved from granite. Reaper stands beside him, jaw clenched. The second he sees Devil, his shoulders drop, but only slightly.
“She’s safe,” I manage, voice low, rough. “Jet’s gone. Tash didn’t make it.”
The words hang heavy, like lead.
Before Creed can speak, Winchester storms through the doors, phone in hand, voice tight. “Fingers found her,” he says. “Maria. Jet’s description nailed it. He’s got a fix on her.”
“Maria first,” Creed snaps. “Jet after. One leads to the other.”
Creed puts his hand on my chest and points. “This is on you, brother. Jet shouldn’t have left the compound.”
He can’t make me feel worse than I already do, but I’ll burn everything down to get Jet back. “I know.”
He nods. “Time to go hunting.”