Page 26 of Toxic Biker

“Then what do you suggest? He needs it and he can barely walk.”

“I’ll carry him out if you can cover us.”

“You got it, no one will get so much as a step in our way, or I’ll light them the fuck up.”

With a stern nod, he leans down, placing his arms underneath Seth to carry him princess style. “Try to hold on to me; this will probably hurt because we have to move fast. The cops could show up anytime.”

Seth doesn’t respond, just stares at him with a pitiful look and winces, crying out when my brother lifts him. He’s strong and fucking monster sized so he doesn’t skip a beat carrying around another grown man like he’s a big bag of flour.

“Alright, fuckers, let’s get the hell out of here,” I mutter, no longer blood thirsty, just eager to get Seth home and some help as soon as possible. There’s more than a broken ankle, the way he’s hunched over, I’d say his shoulders fucked, probably his ribs with the way he shrieked when those assholes tossed him down and he bent over, a few of his fingers were bent at weird angles and one of his hands was limp like his wrist is spent. My poor friend and when my woman sees him she’d going to completely lose it. The truth of the matter is, I don’t want her to witness him like this. I honestly don’t think she can handle it.

Leaving the glass room behind, I check around us before darting back the way we came. My senses get overwhelmed going from the quieter room to the loudness again and flashing lights along the roof. I take a deep inhale, centering myself, as I can’t allow myself to fuck this up.

The coast is clear, so I wave them to follow. The stairs come into sight and just when I think we’re going to get out of here scot-free, two men rush to the top. They’ve got guns in each of their hands, and they raise the four weapons, pointing them at us like they’re in a fucking shoot-out or some dumb movie shit. Pointing them is all they manage as I’m in hyper-focus mode and spray them down with my AK-47. They don’t have a chance against me protecting my friends. They’ve already done too much as far as I’m concerned, and they deserve to meet the reaper.

Glancing back, I make sure nothing is coming at us from behind, but we’re in the all-clear. Seth’s eye is as wide as it can be considering his face is swollen and fucked up. I can imagine he’s shocked to his core at watching me kill someone so easily, but that’s something we’ll have to deal with at a later time.

I have a feeling the owners of this torture house night club are watching the action unfold from the comfort of their couches. I wish they’d been stupid enough to be here and I was truly hoping we’d be able to catch them since they didn’t know when or how we’d be coming in. They probably thought I’d show up and not know what to do with a club full of people, and then their men would easily pick me off. The jokes on them, because I didn’t come alone, nor ill-prepared.

I hit the stairs going down at a swift pace, my gaze trained everywhere all at once as Powerhouse jostles Seth the entire way, making him cry out in pain over and over. It only serves to infuriate me more. We make it downstairs in no time, coming face to face with a group of men I don’t recognize. They aren’t wearing cop gear, and they’re far too put together to be scared patrons, so I fill them with bullets before they have the chance to do the same to us.

Angel and Prez burst out of the stairwell that leads downstairs. Angel’s absolutely soaked in blood, with every inch of his skin showing splattered in crimson. He’s carrying an unconscious woman. I can’t help but wonder what the fuck went on in the short time we were separated, considering nothing was mentioned on our comms.

Prez has a kid clutching to his back, giving him a piggyback ride while strapped with his weapon at the ready. It looks like something serious enough had to happen for them to bring their own set of stragglers to safety.

Wrench and Lunatic come flying out of the back hallway with the other offices. Lunatic has blood all over his shoulder, but something tells me they didn’t get as lucky as Angel, because I know none of the blood covering his psycho ass belongs to him.

“You alright?” Prez barks, gesturing to the bloody mess.

Lunatic nods, wincing, while Wrench scans the place. “I may be shot, but the other guy’s dead.”

“We gotta go, boys,” Wrench mentions, walking with his back to us, so we can head for the door while he covers us. “Out the same way we came in. Easy in and easy out,” he reminds us of our original plan. We have to get back to Blow and get the fuck out of here before we’re busted and sent to prison.

“You good to drive, or you need me to?” I ask Wrench, not knowing what exactly happened, aside from what appears to be Lunatic getting shot at least once.

“I’m driving,” Powerhouse argues, and he’s the SAA so we pretty much do whatever the fuck him or Angel says in these situations.

Seth groans, his head drooping to the side, and I scan the smoker’s patio for another cup as soon as we’re outside. I’m in luck as there’s a half drunken bottle of water sitting on one of the outdoor tables. I grab it, twist open the top and lean over to offer a sip to Seth. I’m afraid they gave him no food or water since he’s been gone and his body won’t be able to help him fight off his injuries on his own. Seth manages to take three sips, then Angel’s barking at us to get the fuck out of there. We listen and take off running the best we can, loaded down with the three new additions to our group.

The alley we got our access through is empty and quiet. In normal circumstances I’d be skeptical that there wasn’t someone waiting out here to slaughter us the moment we step into the shadows but Blow and the prospects have been watching out for us, so I know we’re safer out here than we were inside.

We make it to the rented vehicles we picked up this morning, everyone helping get the two injured and kid inside. The brat goes absolutely feral and won’t leave Prez’s arms, so he ends up on his lap. I’d say he’s maybe eight or so? But who knows, I’m not familiar with kids, so I could be way off. Wrench takes the passenger spot, while Lunatic sits next to Prez in the second-row seating, and the other prospects hop in the third row, while Blow remains in the driver’s seat.

Angel won’t let go of the woman, so he slides into the back of the second SUV. We stick Seth next to them, while I climb in the passenger side, and Powerhouse jumps behind the wheel. I’m glad we ended up getting these huge ass cages or all of us never would’ve fit and we’d have made the prospects walk until one of us could swing through and pick their asses up later. It’s bad enough Prez and our VP are riding together in the same vehicle with a few of our prospects when his protection is in the vehicle with me. We need to get somewhere to change spots, have Powerhouse and Angel ride with Prez and Blow in here before someone can get the drop on our two leaders and really fuck our club dynamics up.

“The hell happen to you, Angel? I’m guessing that blood isn’t yours,” I ask, glancing at them in the seat behind me. He has the woman cradled to his chest; his nose buried in her hair like a fucking stalker, sniffing the matted oily strands.

“We found them locked up.”

“Who?”

“Her and the kid, and others.”

“You didn’t free the others?”

“Cops are on their way; they’ll be freed within the next ten minutes,” he reasons, but it only makes me wonder why they kept those two when he left the others behind.

“So, it’s not your blood?”

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