Layla’s POV
The morning after the shooting was the longest of my life.
I woke to shouting. Angry voices. I ran to the window and my heart stopped.
The compound was surrounded. Police cars everywhere. Officers with rifles standing at every gate, every door, every possible exit. They looked at the clubhouse like it was a prison and we were the inmates.
I threw on clothes and ran downstairs.
The common room was chaos. Women crowded together, some crying, some yelling. Roxy stood near the door, arms crossed, staring out at the cops with hate in her eyes. Chloe was on the couch, pale and quiet.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"They won't let us out," one woman said. Her name was Maria, her old man was one of Jax's mechanics. "We're trapped here. Like animals."
I went to the door. I opened
