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Bronx: You do not want to know.

Riot: Just tell me.

Bronx: Axe Me About It. We’re throwing axes and drinking beer. Deadly combination when the girl you’re with is pissed off at her ex. I suggest you don’t come here.

I stop in front of a big glass window with Blood & Ink emblazoned on it, through which I can see walls covered in artwork. On one side are hanging frames filled with tattoo sketches. A few of the artists are inking tattoos. Beyond them a section is curtained off.

Riot: I have an idea that might make her feel better.

Or at least... it will show her how serious I am about getting her back. Could it be a real start? I hope so.

I drop him a pin.

8

Kelsey

Leaning against Kodiak who is sitting on one of the stools, I clasp my beer while Golden winds up and lets the axe fly from his hand. It spins end over end and is embedded with a sharp thwack into the middle of the target.

“Fuck yeah,” he crows, his face splitting into a grin. He crosses the standing line to retrieve his axe from inside the cage.

Kodiak plays with my hair. His big thighs cradle me between them. He didn’t balk when the guys decided to come with us.

I’m as relaxed as I’m going to get considering Riot is engaged to Sonatina, who is now coming on the tour, and whose mission in life is to make me miserable. But I can’t leave while Marco is out there somewhere. At least not until I work out how to disappear somewhere he won’t find me.

Putting up with that bitch is the only option I currently have. And there I go getting wound up again.

Bronx is on his phone. He’s texting back and forth with someone. Probably Riot. He slides the device into his back pocket as Golden comes over to me. “Your turn, Special K.”

Straightening, I take my axe up to the line. The face that materializes over the target this time is not Riot’s for cheating on me, hurting me, then getting engaged to that vermin.

Nor Marco’s for being the murdering monster who assaulted me over and over again for years, who would rob me of my life one way or another, and who almost kidnapped me last night and has me looking in every shadow as well as fearing for my guys.

No. It’s Sonatina’s smug face I see.

We were supposed to be going home tomorrow—Riot and me. To put our baby to rest. He was supposed to be doing what he said he was going to do instead of standing by her side.

I’m usually the woman who says put all the blame for his bullshit behavior squarely on the guy. God knows, I tried. But Sonatina isn’t any normal woman who got mixed up with someone she shouldn’t. She’s determined to wreck me, like I’m her personal vendetta. She deserves my anger as much as he does. I fucking hate her.

I grip the handle and pull back my shoulder. Every muscle in my arm aches as I bring it forward.

The axe flies. The target splinters.

“Girl!” Golden raises an eyebrow over his concerned gaze. “Imagining Riot’s face again?”

“Sonatina’s,” I spit out before slapping his hand in a high five. Grimacing, I shake out my hand. The next axe I throw I’ll be imagining Marco’s face.

Bronx steps up to the line to take his turn.

Reaching for my beer, I make eye contact with Rook who is quietly supervising us and everything going on around us.

I drain my beer. Day drinking is where it’s at. Especially when Rook is watching out for me like he’s my very own guardian angel.

He observes me and the guys and everyone around us with those keen gunmetal eyes. He’s seen so much over the years he’s been with the band. It’s surprising he doesn’t have more silver strands in his dark hair.

Somehow, he is both imposing and impossibly calm. Or at least that’s what other people see. I catch the subtle twitch of two fingers rubbing against each other that’s almost hidden by his leg. Followed by a tap on the outside of his thigh. Before he begins the action again.

Even he’s out of sorts today between what happened with Marco last night and Sonatina’s showing up at the hotel.