Page 123 of Property of Fang
“I don’t know. Stay here with Jenna, okay?”
“Okay.” Molly nestles further into Jenna’s arms, tucking her legs onto the booth seat as she cuddles the woman.
I turn and get to my feet, immediately wishing I’d just stayed at home and eaten the prospect’s fucking food when a spike of pain spears between my shoulders.
Glass lies in shards across the floor and furniture, the front window’s frame twisted and hanging loose in places, angry teeth around the edges. I frown at the reason for my sore back—a section of the broken frame on the floor near where my feet were. An elderly woman holds her bleeding head nearby;a younger man covers his right eye. Furniture and food lie scattered, pushed aside amid people’s panic to reach safety.
There’s a middle-aged woman on the floor who doesn’t move.
Flames flicker from amidst the chaos.Shit.
Loki’s already at the heart of the damage, lifting the burning molotov cocktail from the floor to send it back out into the street.
The cook runs out from the kitchen with a fire extinguisher.
My ear still screams, high-pitched and angry.
And I’m not sure, but I think the back of my head may be bleeding.
What the hell have they done?
Darko ejects himself from the booth, knocking into me in his haste. “Did you see anything?”
“They fucking rammed a goddamn family restaurant.” We’ve done some sketchy shit in our time, but we’ve never willingly harmed innocent people like this. It’s sick.
The fucking Devil’s Breed don’t have a soul—I have no doubt they’re who’s behind this.
“Did you catch the plate?” Darko’s back on his phone, thumb flying as he navigates multiple message threads at once.
“Wouldn’t matter,” I say, starting toward the immobile woman. “It’s probably stolen.”
“I’m going to take a look outside.” He dashes toward the ruined window and jumps through the hole.
I come to an abrupt halt when two other people beat me to the injured lady.
Passersby mingle on the sidewalk, gawping at the damage. Somebody holds up their phone to record the fallout.
And I’m right in the middle of the shot.Fuck.
Reno gets a hold of the footage; it’s all over. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever see my daughter again.
FORTY-ONE
JENNA
Arms wrapped around Molly,I do my best to shield her from the sheer panic that envelops us. “It’s okay,” I say softly. “We’re okay.” As much for her as I do for myself.
Loki does his best to calm the stampede that pushes and shoves to escape to the street, helping an older gentleman who was knocked to the ground in the initial rush. The cook has the flames extinguished, but there are people with superficial injuries from the shattered glass, as well as some still navigating their way over the debris on the ground to get to a safer area.
I feel like a sitting duck. So exposed.
So responsible.
Quit it, Jenna.The men are part of a goddamn one-percenter club. This carnage is likely as much their doing as it is mine. Nobody else here knows who I am. Nobody else knows what I did.
Nobody but Fang.
Who currently stands frozen in the middle of the mess, hands flexing at his sides. My fingers rhythmically stroke over Molly’s dark hair while I watch her father, waiting for him to make a move. Fang’s shoulders gently rise and fall, his head turningslightly as he surveys the damage. Blood runs down the back of his neck. He gives a flex of his back, and the leering skull stitched across his shoulders stretches. Head rolled back to stare up at the ceiling, he sighs, and then strides toward the ruined window, vaulting his way out to the street to follow after Darko.
