Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“You played me, Sable. I won’t help you anymore. Club girls have no class. I should have known better.”
Grass chuckled. “I’ll see you at the office, Hank. First, I need to add this one to the dollhouse.”
She swallowed hard.
Before she knew it, she was in the back of a black SUV, heading to someplace she knew would be a nightmare.
****
Forge and Redneck were the first out of the gates. Old Dog found him out back scavenging some old parts and told him Sable had been taken. He’d never known real fear until that moment.
He followed the Prez, his mind scattered in so many directions. How had this happened? Why hadn’t he kept her closer? The only thing working in their favor was the fact they’d taken her in broad daylight in front of half the club. The roar of the dozens of bikes sounded like an angry hive looking to devour something whole. They traveled at top speeds down the back roads after the white van. Even though they knew their target and were hot on the trail, it wouldn’t help if Sable was killed in that van.
What if they stopped and he found Sable’s broken, bloody body inside?
No life.
No smile.
He remembered the time Sable was shot by Hound. Her life had come so close to being snuffed out, and it was then he realized just how important she was to him.
He couldn’t lose her now.
Forge raised his hand in the air, making a quick circle. The bikes split up at the intersection ahead. Although no one had seen who’d grabbed Sable, Dog knew it was that fucking cop. They were going to bail from the van, so they needed all avenues covered. Forge wasn’t playing games anymore. Whether Sable was dead or alive, whoever was responsible was going to suffer.
His group of Hell’s Slaves followed down the long side road, emerging on an industrial parking lot near the mail sorting plant. He slowed to a crawl, then set his booted foot down on the pavement.
“What the fuck?” he muttered to himself.
There was row after row of identical white vans. None of them were moving or out of place. A few minutes later, Forge and the rest of the boys joined them. His prez stopped right next to him.
“Did anyone get a visual on our van?”
Dog shook his head.
“We’ll have to ride up and down the aisles. We’ll find her, Dog.”
He pointed at the secured automated chain-link gates at the end of the roadway, complete with barbed wire. Even if they breached the gates, there were likely security cameras everywhere. They’d planned this right down to the last detail.
Forge was on his cell phone, barking out orders, but Dog was a million miles away. Sable would be terrified. He’d fucking promised to keep her safe.
“They’re not here,” Forge said, tucking his phone away.
“What do you mean? We were just behind them. Sable’s in one of those vans.”
Forge shook his head. “Sable managed to get a tracker on Hank’s phone. We know where they’ve taken her. Are you ready to go and get her?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. “Lead the way.”
All the bikes turned around on the road, following Forge, the collective roar a familiar comfort. He had the tracking information and knew where to find Hank Little. They thought there were so smart, leading them to this parking lot. They likely assumed they had hours while the Hell’s Slaves searched every one of those vans and the building. Little and Grass were in for a surprise.
About half an hour later, they parked on the side of the road.
“It’s Grass’s government office.”
Dog stared at the building. If Hank was in there, that meant Sable was there too.
“How we handling this?” asked Dog.
“With force.”
Forge held up three fingers, and the next three brothers in the chain of command followed Forge and Dog into the building. They were all strapped, and they didn’t know how to play anything but dirty. Peterson had learned the hard way not to mess with the Hell’s Slaves, paying with this life. Now these two jokers would learn the same lesson.
Dog kicked in the door to the office belonging to Luther Grass. The door slammed against the wall behind it with a powerful thud. Hank gasped and stumbled backward, using a hand on the desk to keep from falling.
“Where is she?”
“What are you talking about?”
He wasn’t there to listen to bullshit. Dog stormed forward, grabbing Hank by the collar. Hank was tall and lanky, but not as tall as Dog. His muscles tightened as he held the cop in place. “Let’s try this again. Where the fuck is my old lady?”
Hank narrowed his eyes. “You’re in a government building…”
“And?”
“The cops will be here within minutes.”
He scoffed. “Good, then Sable can attest to you kidnapping her. Where is she?” When Hank didn’t answer, Dog grabbed and flattened his hand on the desk. He pulled out a butterfly knife, putting on a nice show for him. “Last chance to speak up.”