Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
The black van engine squeals with the effort of being pushed beyond its limits, but the driver is rewarded for his persistence. The van rolls up right beside Gia, just ten feet from the door. She’s so close to safety, but she has no idea how close the danger is.
“Faster,” I yell, but in my heart, I know it’s too late.
The van slows down almost as if in slow motion, and the side door slides open. A pair of hands dart out to grab her, and I can’t fucking see which of the Kings it is because he’s wearing a black mask and gloves. No visible tattoos or scars. Dammit.
Gia freezes when the hands reach out to her. Horror crosses her face. Horror and a fear so terrifying all the blood instantly rushes from her face. One hand yanks her by the hair, and the other arm hooks around her waist, scooping her up and unceremoniously dumping her in the van.
I’m still running like hell to get to her when the van door slides shut, and the tires squeal in place before they take off, a thick cloud of smoke left in its wake.
“Shit!” I rush toward my bike in a mad dash to catch up to the black van or at least one of the choppers providing cover for them.
For the first three blocks, I stay on their ass, following close enough behind that the bikes weave all over the road to keep an eye on my progress. They have to be going to one of their stash houses, so I pull back a little to make sure the van doesn’t run off the road or flip with Gia inside.
The black van approaches a four-way stop sign, and this is my chance to slide up to the right side, open that door, shoot all the bastards inside, and grab my woman.
Two Iron Kings on bikes leave the pack, each swerving around the van, but I can’t see where they are. Fuck, I need to get Gia no matter the danger. Get us through this, God. Please.
I move slowly to the right, practically riding in the gutter as I pass the two Iron Kings bringing up the rear of the caravan.
The asshole closest to me kicks my bike and laughs.
I stop and turn to him, my silver Glock in hand as I take aim and shoot, hitting that chunk of flesh between the shoulder and the throat.
He falls and takes his bike with him, not to mention the other driver.
I smile. The wound isn’t fatal, but it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch for a few days. With them taken care of, I slide past the bikers in the middle, providing up-close protection for the van.
The riders are young, possibly prospects, because their attention is focused on the three scantily clad women swinging their hips on the other side of the street, giving me a clear path to the van.
I’m almost there, so close I can feel the heat of Gia’s flesh under my hand.
The van tires squeal, and the vehicle accelerates into traffic, nearly t-boned on both sides for going out of turn. Both cars honk at the van, but they don’t stop to apologize or threaten the other drivers. They accelerate until the roar of the engine is nothing but a distant hum.
Once the intersection is clear, I floor it to catch up with them, but after five blocks, it becomes clear that I’ve lost them.
I lost Gia.
“Why?” I roar toward the sky, full of anger and rage. Confusion.
I know what those fuckers did to Kelsey and McKenna and her friend Grace. They nearly killed Letty, and that was just due to the girl’s proximity to the club, their importance to my brothers.
This is different. Gia is useful, connected to the Reckless Souls, and worse, she stole from them.
And they know it.
I know I can’t do this on my own. Coop and I might be pissed at each other, but these are my brothers. I need their help, so I head back to the clubhouse.
I walk inside, anger coursing through me at the sight of everyone sitting around, laughing and smiling as if everything is normal.
Coop turns to me with a stupid-ass grin. “What happened, Preacher? She tell you to get lost?”
“Fuck you,” I spit, so angry I could bash his face in until my fists are bloody and numb.
“Whoa,” he laughs and playfully holds up his hands defensively. “Don’t get pissed at me because she did you a favor.”
“That’s it,” I growl and go to Coop, picking him up by his throat. “The Iron Kings took her, asshole. They came on our property, rolling six deep on bikes to protect a fucking van. They planned this shit, Coop, and now they have her.”
Coop shrugs off my hold, and I release him.