5. Anna
ANNA
By morning, the kitchen counter had returned to being chipped laminate crowded with unopened mail. Nothing about it suggested Riot had fucked me on it with my legs around his waist while I demanded more, but my body remembered anyway.
I stood at the sink and hated that the sex had felt familiar rather than wrong. Riot knew where to touch me, but familiarity ran deeper than technique. He gave me room to say no, left when I asked and still kept a Wraith bike on my street until dawn.
None of that proved he’d been innocent eighteen months ago, but I was having a harder time dismissing what he did now.
At nine, I drove to the commercial glass company where I handled accounts four days a week.
My boss took one look at the dark half circles under my eyes and directed me toward the small back office without asking about Crow.
Everyone in town knew he was missing. The respectful people let me decide when to say it aloud.
I worked through supplier invoices until my phone vibrated inside the desk drawer.
The message came from Hale’s number.
I found something Stone missed about Crow. Old service station on County Road 14, north of the line. Eleven thirty. Don’t bring Stone or his boys.
Another message followed.
Come alone. If they see me talking to you, I’m done.
Hale’s signal in the clubhouse had promised contact. County Road 14 ran just north of the territorial line, close enough to the Wraith side to make me wary without actually crossing it. The old service station was public, empty and isolated.
It could also be a setup. Riot’s voice supplied the warning with irritating clarity.
I called Hale. It rang until voicemail. I didn’t leave a message that might be heard by someone beside him. Instead, I sent one sentence.
I’ll be there.
At eleven, I told my boss I needed the afternoon and left through the delivery entrance. No motorcycles waited outside. No gray sedan moved when I pulled onto the main road. I took three unnecessary turns and doubled back through a grocery lot before heading north.
Riot appeared in my mirror at the river bridge.
Anger came first, followed too closely by relief. I accelerated. Riot stayed back through town, closed the distance when the road emptied and followed me onto County Road 14.
The old service station had lost its pumps years ago. Plywood covered the windows and weeds pushed through the forecourt. A bus shelter stood across the intersection, its concrete wall scarred with old paint. No vehicles waited nearby.
I parked beside the building. Riot pulled in behind me.
“Move it,” I said as I got out.
“Who are you meeting?”
“Someone I trust.”
His gaze moved across the boarded building and empty approaches. “Show me the message.”
“No.”
“Call him.”
“I already did. He didn’t answer.”
Riot’s expression hardened. “Then this is wrong.”
“Not everyone in Gravewater belongs to Stone.”
“I know. But whoever chose this place didn’t choose it to keep you safe.”
“Hale is scared.”
Riot went still. “You just gave me the name.”
“Damn it.”
“Get behind the building.”
An engine rose beyond the trees.
Riot turned before I did. A dark pickup came hard around the eastern bend, passenger window already down. Sun flashed along metal.
“Down.”
The first shot broke the one unboarded service station window behind me.
Riot threw himself into me, one arm locking around my head as he drove us both to the ground. My shoulder struck pavement. His weight covered my back and legs while glass burst from the rotten door. More shots ripped across the forecourt, chewing concrete where we’d been standing.
Riot dragged me behind the low wall of the bus shelter, keeping his body between mine and the road. A bullet struck the concrete edge and threw grit across his cheek. He shoved my head beneath his chest.
“Stay down.”
The pickup slowed. Riot drew his pistol, braced one hand on the shelter and fired twice.
The windshield starred. The truck swerved, clipped the ditch and recovered. A final burst hit the shelter. Riot jerked above me.
Then the engine receded west.
For one second neither of us moved. My ears rang. The air smelled of hot dust, cordite and the sharp chemical stink of broken safety glass.
Riot rolled, came over me again and put both hands over my ribs. “Were you hit?”
“I’m not hit, I’m okay.”
He ran his palms down my sides, over my stomach and legs, searching for blood. His right sleeve was torn. Red spread from a line along his upper arm. “Anna, tell me where it hurts.”
“My shoulder from the ground. That’s all.” I caught his wrist. “You’re bleeding.”
He looked at the graze as if it belonged to someone else. “Nothing.”
“That isn’t nothing.”
“It’s a scratch.” He turned my face toward the light. Tiny cuts from concrete dust stung along my cheek. “You sure you didn’t feel heat anywhere? Impact?”
“I’m sure.” My voice shook on the last word.
Riot’s hand stopped at the back of my neck. His chest rose too fast. For the first time since he came through the compound door, there was no anger to hide behind and no time for him to build another expression. He’d thought I was bleeding. The fear in his face was too raw to be performance.
I touched the blood on his arm. “You covered me.”
“Wasn’t going to let them shoot you.”
The answer was blunt, as if there had been no decision to make.
I pressed my palm over the graze when fresh blood ran down his arm. Riot started to move my hand away.
“Hold still.”
“They could circle back.”
“Then watch the road and let me do this.”
He shifted so he could see past me while I kept pressure on his arm. The graze was shallow, but blood still ran over my fingers.
“You could’ve been hit because of me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
His gaze flicked to mine, then back to the bend where the pickup had disappeared. “You’re alive. That’s the part I give a shit about.” He pulled out his phone with his uninjured hand, sent our location with one word, SHOTS, and put it away again.
A few minutes later, motorcycles approached from the west. Riot moved me behind him and aimed toward the road until two Wraith bikes entered the intersection. Mace came first, Havoc behind him. They split without discussion, Mace coming to us while Havoc checked the road.
Mace came over first. “Either of you hit?”
“She’s clear,” Riot said. “Graze on me.”
“I can answer for myself.”
Mace looked at me and made a point of asking. “Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Good.” He nodded toward Riot’s arm. “That needs cleaning.”
“Later.”
Havoc checked the road. “Truck’s gone.”
Riot picked up my phone from where it had fallen. The glass was cracked but the screen worked. “Call Hale.”
I did. This time he answered after two rings.
“Anna?” His voice was low and wary. “Why are you calling me?”
I put the phone on speaker. “You sent me to County Road 14.”
“No, I didn’t. I haven’t messaged you.”
“I saw your signal yesterday.”
“Not on the phone.” A door closed on his end. “Crow’s old place. Tomorrow, 8am. Come by the rear and don’t bring anyone Stone knows.”
Riot met my gaze. Hale continued before I could answer. “Delete this call and stay out of sight. They’re watching more than you realize.”
The line ended.
Mace looked at the messages. “Somebody had Hale’s phone long enough to send these.”
“They knew Hale signaled me,” I said. “Someone inside the clubhouse saw.”
Riot looked toward the Wraith side of the intersection. “And brought you here. You die near our line after accusing us publicly, Stone gets Crow’s sister and a reason to point every Gravewater gun north.”
If the Wraiths had wanted me dead, Riot had just ruined the cleanest chance they were ever going to get. His blood was still drying on my fingers when that truth finally became impossible to ignore.
Mace called Rook and put the phone on speaker. Riot gave him the essentials. False message, unmarked truck, Hale’s denial and the direction the shooters took.
“Anna,” Rook said when Riot finished. “Did you see the shooter?”
“A man in the passenger seat. Dark cap, pale sleeve. Nothing I could identify.”
“Did anyone outside Gravewater know you were meeting Hale?”
“No. I hadn’t even told Riot his name until we were here.”
“Then somebody inside saw the contact and had access to Hale’s phone.
Stone may call this a Wraith hit before we clear the glass from the road.
” Rook’s voice hardened. “Your house is exposed and I don’t want you coming through our gates while Stone has eyes on them.
Mace has another option if you want it.”
“A motel,” I said.
“One night while we assess. Riot stays with you. Somebody just tried to turn you into a reason for war.”
Riot wiped blood from his fingers onto his ruined sleeve. “She understood the first time.”
Rook paused. “Get the fucking arm treated.”
“After she’s inside.”
“That was a fucking order.”
“Then I’ll follow it after she’s inside.”
Mace looked away to hide the start of a smile. Rook ended the call with a word that had nothing to do with medical care.
Mace pocketed the phone. “We need somewhere away from here and not the compound. Stone sees her go through our gates now, he’ll call it another abduction before dark.”
“There’s a motor court six miles west. Owner owes us.”
I looked at Riot. “You’re deciding where I go?”
“No. I’m telling you the risk. Your house is known, Gravewater is compromised and somebody just tried to turn you into a club war. You can choose a safer place while we work out who still has eyes on you and what the play is if you like.”
He wasn’t wrong. My house was exposed, Stone knew the people I might call, and somebody inside Gravewater had used Hale’s phone to put me under gunfire.
The safest available man belonged to the club I’d accused, and he was bleeding because he’d covered me.
“I need my car secured,” I said. “My boss gets a message that I’m out tomorrow, and nobody contacts Stone on my behalf.”
Mace nodded. “A prospect can move the car and make sure your boss knows you’re out tomorrow.”
“I keep my phone.”
Riot’s first instinct showed in the line between his brows. Then he said, “Turn it off, but keep it.”
I looked from Mace to Riot. Nobody was telling me Gravewater had become the enemy overnight, and nobody was asking me to swear loyalty to the Wraiths. They were giving me the facts they had and waiting for my answer.
That shouldn’t have felt unusual. After weeks of Stone deciding which answers I was allowed to hear, it did.
“One night,” I said. “And I call Hale tomorrow.”
“One night,” Riot agreed, though nothing in his expression promised he’d leave me alone afterward.