Sylvie's mouth peeled back from Ivy's thigh in a snarl. "You *knew*." The accusation wasn't aimed at Ivy. Cole's grip tightened convulsively around Ivy's waist, his fingers digging bruises into her skin as Sylvie lunged up, her nails raking down Jax's chest. The bartender backhanded her without looking, the crack of his palm against her cheekbone echoing off the tiles. Ivy flinched—she knew that sound too, knew the metallic taste flooding Sylvie's mouth before the first drop of blood hit the floor.
The serpent tattoo coiled tighter as Jax flexed his forearm, pinning Sylvie against the opposite wall with her own belt around her throat. "Should've kept your mouth shut," he growled, but Ivy was already twisting in Cole's arms, her knee coming up sharp between Jax's thighs. The bartender wheezed, his cock sliding out of her with a wet sound as he doubled over—but Cole caught Ivy's wrist before she could bolt, his teeth sinking into her shoulder hard enough to draw blood. "Not so fast, baby sister."
River's last voicemail played in Ivy's head—*Jax knows who took Dad's bike, meet me at the quarry*—as Sylvie's boot connected with Jax's ribs. The bartender's breath exploded in a grunt, but Ivy barely registered the scuffle; Cole's fingers were digging into her hip where Jax had gripped her brother that last night, the bruises matching perfectly. "You fucking *knew*," Ivy spat, her voice cracking as she twisted against Cole's grip. The neon light flickered, casting Jax's face in red as he wiped Sylvie's blood from his lip.
Behind her, Cole's chuckle vibrated against her spine—too calm, too familiar—as he pinned Ivy's wrists together with one hand. With the other, he reached into his back pocket and tossed something metallic onto the wet floor. Ivy's stomach dropped at the *clink* of her brother's keychain hitting tile, the little silver motorcycle charm she'd given him spinning lazily beside Jax's boot. Sylvie made a strangled noise, her gaze darting between Cole's smug grin and Ivy's paling face. "Found it in your trailer," Cole murmured, his tongue tracing the shell of Ivy's ear like a lover. "After we towed it from the quarry."
Jax straightened with a groan, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he kicked the keys toward Sylvie. "Shoulda stayed gone, Ivy." The nickname curled like smoke from his lips—too intimate, too *knowing*—and Ivy's skin prickled with the realization that they'd said it before, maybe while her brother bled out in the dirt. Sylvie's fingers closed around the keys, her split lip glistening as she bared her teeth in something that wasn't a smile. "Cole's right," she purred, stepping close enough that Ivy could taste her own arousal still on Sylvie's breath. "You really *do* fight dirty."
The neon buzzed overhead, flickering like a dying pulse as Cole's grip tightened, his teeth grazing Ivy's jugular. Jax cracked his knuckles, the serpent tattoo writhing with the motion, and Ivy's vision tunneled—not with fear, but the white-hot clarity of a decision made. She went limp in Cole's arms, letting her head loll back against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. "Okay," she whispered, lips brushing his stubble. "Okay." The word tasted like gasoline, like the strike of a match.
Cole loosened his hold just enough for Ivy to turn, her palms sliding up his chest, slow and deliberate. She let her fingers catch on the chain around his neck—the one with the bullet casing pendant she'd seen glinting in the bar light earlier. Sylvie's breath hitched behind her, but Ivy didn't look away from Cole's widening pupils as she yanked the chain hard enough to snap. The casing bounced once before Jax lunged for it, his boot skidding in Sylvie's spilled blood. Ivy used the distraction to drive her elbow into Cole's solar plexus, twisting free as he gasped.