Blade (Iron Rogues MC #3) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Iron Rogues MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
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Since it was the dead of winter, the sky was still fully dark this early in the morning. Which would make it easier to approach without spooking our prey. Once I dismounted, I unsnapped my holster for easier access to my gun. The others did the same or chose to tuck their piece into the waist of their pants.

“Ned told us that this lowlife had four other deals going down that night,” Whiskey murmured. “When he chased Elise, he basically stood his customers up, and word got out that he was unreliable. He’s been crashing here while he tries to gain more clients so he can pay back his supplier.”

My lips twisted in disgust as I thought about this asshole and the damage he’d done to countless lives. The dealer’s rap sheet had included several drug busts, but he’d also been charged with murder. However, the charges were dropped since the body had mysteriously disappeared. The cops had also picked him up for suspicion in several other deaths, but he’d never been charged for those. They would probably breathe a sigh of relief when they found this fucker dead…and he would be found. Because we intended to send a very clear message.

There was an alley behind the dilapidated old house, and Deviant parked the van on the street at the end of it. We approached the house that way, coming up to the back porch where a couple of guys were passed out and a hooker smoking off to the side of the steps. She started to smile, but when she caught sight of our patches, she sighed and stomped away.

“Blade and I will go in and smoke him out,” Fox decided. “Whiskey, cover the front. Mav, stay here at the back. If he comes running out, restrain him, gag him, get him in the van, and meet back at The Room.”

He was referring to a small building that sat at a spot on our property that was the farthest from any of the businesses, homes, and clubhouse. From the outside, it looked like a boring cinderblock building, easily overlooked. But on the inside, it was very, very different. We called it “The Room” because the name was as dismissive as its exterior. The interior had four rooms, a lounging area of sorts, a cell, an interrogation hold, and a space that had a cache of tools that might be needed to aid us in gaining what we wanted.

It was most often used as a place for interrogation, but in some cases, we already had the information we needed. Then we used The Room for our particular brand of justice. Tonight, this motherfucker was gonna face his maker in that room. But not before I made him wish he’d never been born.

Deviant had sent everyone a picture of the asshole we were hunting, and I glanced at it one more time before tucking away my phone and pulling out my gun. It was dark, and the guy could be blitzed, making him look bloated or more haggard than usual, so we wanted to be sure we recognized certain features. Luckily, Grey—a world-class hacker who also happened to be a Silver Saint—had obtained security footage from a bodega up the street just before midnight. So there was a good chance the dealer still wore the same clothes.

I followed Fox into the house, stepping over bodies, presumably live ones…but you never knew in places like this. A few people stirred, but they were too fucked up to give a shit who we were and what we were doing there, as long as we weren’t cops. Even then, I doubted many of them were capable of running.

Fox paused at a door that looked like it led to a kitchen and glanced back at me, then pointed at a door that went to a hallway. I nodded and quietly made my way toward the front of the house. We met by the door, both of us having searched our first-floor area and coming up with nothing. I jerked my head toward the stairs, and he followed silently as I ascended. The first door on the right was slightly ajar, and muffled noises came from inside. I used the barrel of my gun to nudge it open since I had no desire to touch anything in this place.

A small, dirty lamp on a little table beside a twin mattress rested on the floor. I grimaced when I realized the sounds had been a man receiving a blow job from a hooker. When she shifted, I recognized the junkie’s clothing and heaved an annoyed sigh. Fucking great.

I flipped off the safety on my gun and pointed it at his head before kicking the mattress to get their attention. The man cursed, and the woman shrieked, scrambling backward when she looked up and spotted my weapon.



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