Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
V ander pushed himself up, and pulled Brynn up with him.
He noted the swelling and the start of the bruising on her face. His jaw locked.
He pulled his Glock and swiveled. He lifted the gun and advanced on Nomad, stepping over the still bodies of the other unconscious bikers.
Nomad was still cursing and righting himself. He spotted Vander and his eyes went wide. He dived under a workbench.
Vander fired, but couldn’t see the asshole. “Brynn?”
“Here. I’m okay.”
Her voice was right behind him. She was sticking close.
A flash of movement. Vander swiveled and fired again.
He heard a yelp. A dash of movement behind another bench. Then a second later, Nomad sprinted out of the garage door toward the clubhouse, yelling.
The doors of the clubhouse burst open and bikers spilled out.
Armed bikers.
Fuck . Vander spun. “Time to go.”
Her eye was already swelling. Anger—dark and deadly—shot through him, but he locked it down.
“Help me.” He pressed his ass against the bike’s seat, then bent his legs. He pushed up and Brynn heaved with him. They got the bike upright, then he climbed on and waved at her. She threw her leg over and settled behind him.
Vander gunned the engine, and they roared out of the garage. She pressed close to his back, her arms clamped around him.
As they sped onto the street, Brynn shifted, yelling against the wind.
“We have company!”
Vander heard the throaty growl of lots of bikes. He looked back and saw the gang of Harleys spilling onto the street to chase them.
Shit .
“Gun,” she snapped.
He reached down and pulled the Glock out. He handed it back to her.
She took it, and a second later, pressed a hand to his shoulder and twisted back.
She fired evenly spaced shots.
Vander glanced back and saw Harleys swerving. One crashed into a parked car.
Two bikes swerved and collided with each other, the riders spilling onto the road.
But more kept coming.
“Hold on,” he roared.
Brynn sat, tightening her grip. He turned and they raced toward the bridge.
Several Harleys drew closer. Brynn fired again.
The traffic thickened. Vander weaved in and out of the cars.
Suddenly, a Harley sped out of the side street ahead of them.
Shit . It was Grill.
The biker pulled a huge handgun.
“Brynn!” Vander yelled.
“I see him.”
Grill fired at them, and Vander dodged.
“I’m out of ammo,” she cried.
“Left pocket.”
He felt her reach into his pockets. Then she held on and leaned to the side.
“Hold steady,” she said.
She fired on Grill.
The biker ducked and weaved. Several cars screeched to a stop, and Vander avoided them.
The bridge loomed ahead.
Vander’s BMW was at least seventy or eighty miles per hour faster than the Harley. If they could get out of this traffic, he could lose the bikers.
He accelerated. The BMW shot forward, moving fast. Brynn fired on Grill again.
The biker jerked to the side, and narrowly missed hitting a car.
She fired again.
Grill flew off his Harley. He went one way, and his bike went another.
A delivery truck crashed into the bike with a loud crunch of metal. The truck slammed on its brakes.
“Hold on tight,” Vander told her.
She tucked herself against his back and clamped on.
Vander accelerated. He focused on the road as they raced across the bridge.
He risked a glance back. No bikers were giving chase, and they couldn’t catch them now, regardless.
But that didn’t mean that Nomad, or the Wanderers, would give up. The Iron Wanderers were known for a culture of revenge and payback. Especially Grill.
Once they discovered that Brynn was a cop, they’d really be out for blood.
Vander didn’t head for the Norcross Security office. He needed to get the lay of the land first.
Eventually, they crossed into San Francisco. He slowed and blended into the city traffic.
They ended up in the Embarcadero, down by the water. He slowed to a stop and swiveled. Brynn eased off the bike and Vander did the same.
He bit back a curse. Her face was a mess. Her eye was swelling, and she was going to end up with a hell of a bruise. Assholes . His fingers curled, but he got a lock on the rage.
Gently, he cupped her cheek and turned her face.
“You need ice.” He lightly probed her cheekbone, and she winced. “I don’t think it’s broken.”
“I’ll be fine.” Those big, pale-blue eyes met his. “Vander, thank you. You—”
He yanked her to his chest. Her arms wrapped around him, tight.
“I called you when I realized things had gone bad.” She looked up at him. “But how did you get there so fast?”
“I was already on my way.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “An informant called and told me that my woman was in danger.”
“Your woman?” Their gazes stayed locked.
“I was almost there when your call came in. I broke the speed limit to reach you.”
If he’d been a minute later, she’d be dead. His hands flexed on her. Nomad would have killed her.
“This time, I’m glad you broke the rules.” She leaned closer. “I’m all right, Vander.”
Fuck, she stirred things in him. He forced himself to let her go, and pulled out his phone. He rang Saxon.
“You all right?” his best friend asked.
“Yeah. I take it that it’s all over the news?”
“Shots fired at the Iron Wanderers clubhouse. High-speed bike chase in Oakland. Yeah. How’s Brynn?”
“She’s with me. She’s a little battered, but okay.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Vander ignored her.
“Does she need medical attention?” Saxon asked. “I can call Ryder.”
“I need to take a look first. If her injuries are bad enough, then yeah, we’ll call Ryder.”
Brynn gasped. “Don’t call my cousin. He’ll lose it.”
“Hang on,” Saxon said. “Ace has something. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Vander.” Ace’s voice. “It’s everywhere. The Wanderers want you and Brynn, dead or alive. They’ve put a price on you both.”
“Is Nomad insane?” Brynn asked. “Putting a bounty on Vander Norcross and a cop?”
“Nomad wants to make a name for himself.” Vander narrowed his gaze. “He’ll regret it.”
“Vander, he’s calling in all the Wanderers’ markers,” Ace said. “Allied biker clubs, gangs like the Blades. He’s flooding San Francisco with assholes looking for the two of you.”
Fuck . “Lock down the office, Saxon. Coordinate with Hunt.”
Brynn’s cheeks paled. “My family. My mom—”
Crap, she was right. “Tell Hunt to get security on Brynn’s family. Same for mine. Send Rome to watch my parents. Lock Gia and the women down.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of it.” Saxon’s tone was dark. “Vander, you and Brynn need to lay low until we have a plan of attack to handle this.”
Dammit . “I’ll take care of it.” He met Brynn’s gaze. He’d take care of her. No one was hurting her. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Be careful, Vander,” Saxon said.
* * *
Brynn held onto Vander as he rode toward a warehouse in the Embarcadero.
Her face was starting to hurt. It was throbbing, and the skin felt tight. Her ribs ached as well.
The small warehouse was brick, and wedged between two larger ones. Her belly was tied up in knots, knowing that there was a bounty on both hers and Vander’s heads.
God . Hunt would be furious.
Brynn felt bad. She’d dragged Vander into this mess.
She saw him reach down and touch his phone. The large sliding door on the warehouse opened and he rode inside.
Lights clicked on and Brynn gasped.
The door slid shut behind them.
The warehouse had a polished-concrete floor. Gleaming cars and motorbikes lined both sides of the space. Some looked modern and new; others looked like collectibles. A large turntable was set in the floor in the center of the space, so there was no awkward reversing in and out.
Other vehicles were stored up on hoists near the roof.
Vander turned off the bike’s engine and set the kickstand down.
“Wow doesn’t seem to do this place justice,” she said. “Is it yours?”
“Yeah. It’s not listed under my name, so no one can track us here very easily.”
She scanned around. “Boys and their toys.”
Strong fingers lightly gripped her chin. “You need ice.” He probed her cheek again and she winced. “And some painkillers, I’m guessing.”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Darkness moved through his gaze. He stroked her cheek gently. “Nomad will pay for this.”
She gripped Vander’s wrist. “Hey, don’t forget that I’m okay.”
“He hit you.”
“And I stabbed him.”
“I don’t care. Nomad will still regret it.” Vander dropped his hand and took hers. “Come on.”
He led her to the back of the warehouse. Ferrari. Aston Martin. Lamborghini. Maserati. She couldn’t begin to calculate what this little collection was worth.
There was a small workshop and office tucked at the back. He gestured to a chair, then fished around in a mini fridge and cupboard. He came back with an ice pack, a towel, and a first aid kit. He wrapped the towel around the ice pack.
He pressed the bundle to her cheek. “Hold that.”
“Ugh, I hate having cold things pressed to my skin.”
He shot her a look, then pulled various items out of the first aid kit. “It’s too risky to call Ryder. Someone could trail him here. So, you’ll have to make do with me.” Vander handed her some pills and a water bottle. “Take these.”
She obeyed. He was in the mood to take care of her, and the look on his face warned her not to argue.
“So, are we going to stay here?” she asked.
“No. It’s not set up for anyone to stay here, and I won’t run the risk that some asshole has seen me drive in here at some stage.”
Paranoid. She wasn’t surprised. “What’s the plan?”
“We need to get out of town until things die down a bit. Maybe for a few days. Then I can coordinate with my team and Hunt, and we’ll work out how to take Nomad down.”
Oh, taking Nomad down was a plan she could totally get on board with.
“So, where will we go? We could find a cheap motel somewhere.”
Dark-blue eyes met hers. “I have a cabin. It’s on the way to Tahoe, a few hours’ drive from here. We can stay there.”