Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“The asshole is probably holed up there thinking his ass is safe.” Dax chuckled maniacally.
Mac hit a button on his phone and barked at the person who answered. “Anonymous info coming your way. Gear up for a raid. You’ve got an hour before shit goes down in a way that’ll be a helluva lot harder to clean up.” Then he hung up without waiting for a response. He tucked his phone into his pocket and came around from behind the desk. “I’m gonna get Bridgit and Molly down in the safe room. Gear up and we’ll meet in fifteen.”
Scout, Dax, and I armed ourselves, then we headed out to our bikes. Mac joined us a few minutes later and climbed on his hog. “Let’s ride,” he growled before taking off like a bat outta hell, same as the rest of us.
It took almost forty minutes to get to the other side of the county where the Hard Aces clubhouse was located. Unlike the Silver Saints compound, their place was a building on the edge of the town, near other similar buildings. They only had the quarter-acre lot the clubhouse stood on, so while the building was fortified as shit, it was their only line of defense.
We brought our bikes to a collective stop behind one of the other structures. Night was falling so we were able to stay in the shadows and watch for our window of opportunity. Mac pointed at the parking lot in front of the Hard Aces clubhouse, and I nodded, recognizing the bike that told us the dead motherfucker was in the house. Joker. Benji had done some searching with the photo and texted me the asshole’s biker name.
The cops started arriving, and the club prez, Dickens—who we referred to as Dickless— sauntered outside to greet them, looking every bit the smug bastard. The sheriff approached him hesitantly and handed him a piece of paper. Dickens glanced at it and though he still portrayed a careless attitude, a subtle tightening around his eyes and mouth told a different story.
My phone vibrated in my vest, and I silently cursed the timing. I wasn’t about to ignore it, though, not with Harlowe back at the compound without me. It turned out to be Huntley, so I walked deeper behind the building where I knew I wouldn’t be seen. “Link,” I answered.
“Tell me you got him,” Huntley demanded.
“Call me again in twenty minutes and you’ll have the answer you want to hear,” I muttered.
“Threat is taken care of on my end. Get the bastard who’s trying to kill my sister, and she’ll be safe.”
“Done.”
“Then you and I are gonna have a conversation,” Huntley growled.
“Sure. When this is done, I’ll have some time to repeat what you already know.” I hung up and rolled my eyes as I stomped back to my brothers. I really hoped he wasn’t going to be a pain in the ass about me and Harlowe. It wouldn’t change anything, but I didn’t like it when my woman wasn’t happy.
“Dickless just opened the door for the sheriff,” Scout informed me when I marched up to his side. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
Less than five minutes later, a couple of cowards came slinking around from the back of the building. I smiled darkly when I spied Joker. Shots rang out inside the building, and the two guys sped up, conveniently running right in our direction.
With the police rushing the club and chaos ensuing, no one noticed when I stepped out into the open and raised my gun. The two punks skidded to a stop, their eyes widening in alarm. I pointed it at the other man and flicked my gun twice to the right, indicating that I was letting him go. He looked relieved and started creeping in that direction. Then I focused on the son of a bitch who’d dared to threaten my woman.
“You know who I am?” I asked.
He nodded, and his eyes darted to the right. A gunshot suddenly came from just behind me, and in my peripheral, I saw the other man hit the ground, weapon in hand. “Stupid fuck,” Dax muttered.
“Drop it,” I demanded.
Joker hesitated, but when I cocked my pistol, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants that had been hidden beneath a flannel shirt. He dropped it, and I canted my head to the side in silent command. He reluctantly kicked it to the side, out of his reach.
“Please don’t kill me,” Joker begged. Like the little bitch he was.
I laughed. “Yeah, nothing you say to me is gonna save your life.” The laughter died away quickly and was replaced by the volcano of rage bubbling inside me. “You tried to kill my old lady, motherfucker. I should make you bleed for each minute she feared for her life. But I can be reasonable.” Scout scoffed, and I used my free hand to flip him the bird over my shoulder. “If you tell me where you found out about the contract, I’ll make it a bullet between the eyes. Otherwise—and I’m rooting for this option—I’m taking you to a special room where you’ll do a lot of screaming before you tell me what I want to know anyway.”