by Jc Emery
Slowly, I approach the crowd that’s gathered where Jim tackled Carlo. Men are slowly standing up and backing off. Wyatt’s eyes leave the men on the ground and raise to mine. Unshed tears fill his eyes, and my stomach drops. His face contorts into something unrecognizable as he stares at me. I manage to rip my eyes away from him long enough to see what’s going on.
On the ground, Jim is doubled over. He has his hand on his stomach, doing his best to cover what I can only assume is a knife wound. Dark-red liquid seeps out from beneath his fingers, covering his hand in his own blood. Michael stands to the side, holding Ruby against his chest, her head firmly shoved into his pecs. When she breaks away, she spins around and eyes her husband on the ground. Leo and Duke grab at Carlo, who is now either unconscious or dead, and pull him away. Ruby runs to Jim and pulls him up against her chest. He screams out from the movement, his shaking hand no longer able to stop the bleeding from the side of his stomach. I can’t make sense of it. We’re wearing bulletproof vests. That should have protected us. But judging by the way Jim’s holding his wound, Carlo got him at the exact right angle and was able to get under his vest rather than through.
“Come on, baby. You’re fine. You have to be fine,” Ruby cries into Jim’s head. She rocks back and forth, cradling him to her like a protective lioness.
Jim slowly blinks up at her, and he gives her a weak smile. He tries to laugh at her words, but he can’t. His face is ashen, and even with Ruby’s hand on his wound, it’s still seeping blood. He smarts, saying, “Just a flesh wound, Mama.”
And in that moment, we’re all propelled into action. The men coordinate how best to get both Jim and Alex to a hospital. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it seeps through that nobody’s worried about Bear, which means we lost him. I fight back the tears, deciding now’s not the time to mourn my old man’s brother. Everything moves so fast and so slow at the same time. It’s like I’m watching it in a movie. I do my best to go through the motions of getting everyone moving, but the look on Wyatt’s face tells me it’s more than a flesh wound. I shake my head, my eyes trained on him. Slowly, gravely, my old man nods. He’s wrong. He has to be.
“No,” Ian says. It feels more like a whisper, but it’s loud enough for all of us to hear it. He’s the only one not moving, remaining stock-still. His eyes volley between his adopted father and his half sister. He looks like he’s about to be sick. “It can’t end like this.”
The End
COMING SOON
COMING SOON
Cease (Bayonet Scars, No. 7)—coming soon!
Dear reader,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this book. What follows Haunt is Jim and Ruby’s story, which marks the culmination of a story that spans decades of pain and loss, but also extraordinary love. I hope you join me in the coming months as we wrap up the Bayonet Scars series and bid farewell to the Forsaken Motorcycle Club. In true, JC Emery fashion, I’ve saved the best for last.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my mom and sisters. You three are the absolute best. To my Jewels for encouraging me every step of the way. To Danielle Sanchez for everything you do. My wonderful cover artist, Brenda Gonet at Star Bound Books, who perfectly depicted Wyatt and Amber and my amazing editor, Michele Milburn, who never loses her patience with me. Big thank you to everyone on Team JC Emery. You’re all amazing. To the bloggers who kept asking where Haunt is, and to my readers who thought to message me demanding more Forsaken. I wish I had the time to thank each of you personally, but I think you’d rather I get back to Cease.
Thank you all. If I’ve forgotten someone, I’m terribly sorry. You know I have a shit memory. You can yell at me later.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. JC is known for her bad-ass anti-heroes who lure unsuspecting readers into their dark stories and refuse to leave them alone-- even once their story is finished. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. She just recently ditched her flip flops for winter boots and now resides in Southwestern Illinois. When she's not torturing her characters for fun, JC drops the pen name and goes by Christina.
JC is the author of the Bayonet Scars series-- about an outlaw motorcycle club that starts a war with the Italian mafia.
Find JC on the web...
jcemery.com
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