Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Only before he could come for Blakely, she was kicked out by the foster parents who’d promised him they would take care of her. Believing that Storm had deserted her, she was forced to run to her father’s MC for help.
Now Storm is determined to deliver payback to the people who betrayed her. But his biggest obstacle will be earning back Blakely’s trust.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
STORM
“You asked to see me, Prez?”
I strolled into Cox’s office and dropped onto one of the chairs in front of his desk. Cox was the president of the Iron Rogues Motorcycle Club and the father of one of my best friends.
I met Kye at a…questionably legal…drag race when I was a senior in high school. He’d been in college at Princeton University but had come down to my hometown in Florida for the races during spring break. I’d practically grown up in that world—a fuck you to my parents since they were basically useless and made it their mission in life to disapprove of everything I did anyway.
Fox and I hit it off and stayed in touch. The Iron Rogues pretty much ruled the underground racing world in Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, Alabama, and South Carolina. When Fox expressed an interest in expanding even farther south, I facilitated a partnership between the Iron Rogues and the man who bankrolled the majority of the races in Miami and the surrounding cities. Over the years, they’d taken control of the racing scene in the entire state and were creeping into Louisiana and Mississippi.
When I turned eighteen, I was willing to do pretty much anything to get the hell outta my town and away from my parents, so I joined the military. But I spent every leave with Kye—now Fox since he’d patched recently—and his family, which meant I spent most of my time at the MC.
Despite being absent so much, Cox let me prospect any time I was home. Whenever I decided to leave the service, I’d become a patched member of the club.
“Need a favor.”
My brow shot up as I wondered what kind of favor this badass biker, who ran an entire club, would need from me.
“Fox tells me that you’ve been working in hostage negotiation.”
I nodded. When I became a Ranger, I’d taken the mandatory Alternative Dispute Resolution—a fancy term for negotiation—two-hour course and excelled at it. So they’d put me through both of the weeklong courses. When I made Delta Force, it became my specialty. I didn’t share that with many people, so I knew if Fox had told the prez, it was for a very good reason.
“Hate to take up your leave time, kid, but a friend of mine needs your skills. His twelve-year-old daughter’s been kidnapped.”
“Fuck.” I frowned, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
“Saber’s the president of the Westland Riders MC.”
My brows shot up. “In my hometown?”
“Hell of a coincidence,” Cox muttered with a nod.
The Westland Riders had a similar reputation to the Iron Rogues, but they were known to cross some lines that we wouldn’t. “Saber pissed someone off enough for them to snatch his kid?”
“They want a ransom. WR is extremely successful at…what they do. And Saber already came from money when he patched. He dumped a huge portion of his inheritance into the MC coffers.”
“They already received the ransom call?” Even if I rode hard, I was still a ten-hour ride from where I grew up.
Cox shook his head. “Left a note in her backpack, which was found a block from the club. Said to expect a call in the next twenty-four hours.”
“You have a file for me?” I assumed he’d give me as much information as he could so I would be able to familiarize myself with the situation and the players.
Cox picked up a yellow folder from his desk and held it out to me. “I’m sending Fox with you. He’ll drive so you can look shit over. It’ll also free you up if you need to get involved over the phone before arriving.”
I lifted my chin in acknowledgment, my attention already on the dossier he’d provided. “Have Saber email me everything.”
“Will do.”
Twenty minutes later, Fox and I were on the road. I hated the idea of the little girl being in the hands of those assholes any longer than necessary, but trying to mediate from the truck would have been a fucking nightmare. So I was grateful they didn’t receive the call before I arrived.