25. Paul
25
Paul
A n ambush. Fucking Snoopy. Paul should’ve known. Who the hell had Snoopy told about this meeting? This was what Paul got for trying to be a good guy and do the right thing.
Before Harper could get hit by crossfire, he tackled her to the ground. Lying on top of her, he lifted his gun and squeezed the trigger, aiming toward the shots. He knew where his men were stationed, so it wasn’t them who’d done it.
He’d figure out who was responsible after he got Harper out of here. With only a knife to keep her safe, she was a liability.
“Stay low,” he ordered as he rolled off her. “Crawl out of here.”
“My dad,” she said in a shaking voice.
Paul glanced over, and yeah, Snoopy was dead. The pool of blood around him was too large, and he’d been on the receiving end of far too many bullets to have a chance of surviving.
“It’s too late,” he said and shoved her to her belly. “We have to go.”
Footsteps echoed off the walls, along with shouts and more shots fired. Gunfights aren’t long-drawn-out affairs. In real life, they last seconds. Which meant he had little time to take advantage of the chaos and flee unscathed.
Sobbing, she wasn’t moving fast enough. He got it. This was traumatic. Her dad was dead. But if she wanted to live, she needed to move. So, Paul did what he had to do. Looping his arms around her, he lifted her to her feet and slung her over his shoulder.
It wasn’t as low as he would’ve liked, but crouching, he hustled his way to the car. It wouldn’t be long before it ended, and the winner would look for them. He was confident his men would come out on top, but on the off chance whoever had attacked them got the upper hand on the bikers and his team, he wasn’t about to stick around for it.
Out of the garage, he got to the car, unlocked the passenger side, and flung her in as though she were a sack of potatoes. Racing around the front of the car, he yanked his door open and hopped in.
Car started, he threw it into Reverse and peeled out of there. Glancing far too many times in the rearview mirror, he kept an eye out for anyone following them.
“Did I just witness my father’s murder?” Harper asked beside him in the smallest voice he had ever heard.
Frankly, he was kind of shocked that she was so shaken by this. Snoopy lived a criminal lifestyle. This was a likely fate for everyone like him—Paul included.
Sighing, he reminded himself that she had removed herself from this on purpose. While it was the norm for him, it wasn’t for her. He had to give her grace.
Gently, he covered her hand with his. “Yes.”
“Because of me?”
“What?” She had to be kidding. “No.”
“If we weren’t there, he wouldn’t have been.”
“Weren’t you listening to him?” Paul would not let her try to assume any blame for what happened to Snoopy. That man made his bed, and now he’d died in it. “He told both of us shit was wild right now. His gang fucked over a ton of people over the last few years. If it wasn’t today, it would’ve been tomorrow or the next day. It has nothing to do with you.”
“But the bounty is on my head.”
“Mine too,” Paul pointed out.
“That bullet could’ve been meant for one of us.”
He shook his head. “No, it was clearly for him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we’re still alive.” He squeezed her hand, trying to be reassuring.
“They could be bad shots.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, definitely not. Whoever took him out, between the eyes, knew what they were doing. They hit their target.”
The only problem was, Paul hadn’t gotten the information he wanted out of Snoopy. Now, his theory that it was really about him and not Harper was put to bed. Paul was never as sure of anything as he was of that fact. Unfortunately, he still didn’t know who was actually behind all of this.
She slid her hand from under his and pulled her legs up to her chest. He wasn’t about to tell her how unsafe that was, considering the speed he drove. It wasn’t the time or place. She was in shock. He needed to give her time to process all of this.
Another glance up in the mirror as he merged onto the highway, and something caught his eye. No lights? At this time of night?
That wasn’t good.
He didn’t need someone following him right now. He could be wrong, but he doubted it. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities that someone could actually forget to put their headlights on, but it didn’t feel right.
Tapping the control screen on his car, he dialed his brother.
“Yeah?” Eddie sounded out of breath.
“I think I have company.”
“Well, I can’t really help right now. I’m kind of knee-deep in fixing your first problem.”
Paul nodded as though his brother could see him. “Who was it?”
“Hard to tell.”
He furrowed his brow.
“They are bikers, but they don’t look right.” Eddie paused.
Paul could hear a muffled conversation on the other end. His brother must be talking to someone else at the body shop. They obviously came out on top if they had time to chat.
“I gotta call you back.”
The call ended before he could respond.
None of this sat right with him. This was supposed to be a private meeting. Who would Snoopy tell about it other than his brothers? Did he even know there were others there?
The bikers had a rat among them.
Glancing in Harper’s direction, he frowned. Then again, something else could’ve happened. Had his own club turned against him? She had siblings still connected to the club. Hell, her two younger brothers were patched in. This was about to get a lot worse for her.
He couldn’t protect all her siblings, even if they would accept it. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Harper would blame herself if something happened to them. She didn’t have the wherewithal to place the blame where it belonged—on Snoopy. It was his poor choices that put them in this position.
Goddammit, Snoopy. He hadn’t been dead ten minutes, and he was still a thorn in Paul’s side. Another mess he had to clean up for the derelict biker in order to protect Harper.
One day, he would spit on that man’s grave.