Page 55 of Mile High With the Bikers
“We're almost there,” he yells desperately. “I didn’t lie about that. Go right up ahead, and you'll see that I'm telling you the fucking truth. I swear, we're almost fucking there.”
“Rory, we shouldn't?—”
She turns the car down the road Mason indicates, jostling us. “If Dad is there, we have to get him.”
Mason tries to break free, but I throw that motherfucker right back into his seat. “Don't fucking think about it,” I hiss, then raise my voice. “We can't just fucking drive right into it. It's guaranteed to be a trap.”
“Don't listen to him, Ms. Whittaker. He's waiting for us.”
For a moment, she looks torn, but then two black SUVs peel out from dirt roads in the trees, boxing us in.
Mason grins, now that his cavalry is here. His expression turns into shocked surprise when I grab him by the hair and slit his throat with a quick pull of the blade, like he can’t quite believe that I would actually do it. Kidnap my girl? Of course I’d fucking do it. I shove him down quickly to keep Rory from seeing too many of the gory details.
Rory gasps. “Did you just?—”
Fuck. “Eyes forward, Rory. We need to get the fuck outta here.”
“I can't! There's one behind us, too.”
Two loud pops like gunshots go off. The front of the car drops as the tires explode and the wheel hubs start scraping on the asphalt. What little is in the back gets thrown into the front with us at the sudden deceleration. And as soon as we screech to a complete stop, the SUVs veer out, giving them just enough distance for the riders to jump out on the far sides and aim at us, using their vehicles for cover.
The only good thing about realizing that you are utterly and completely fucked is that things become very clear very quickly. “Honey, I'm good, but not good enough to take them all out.”
I pull out my phone, set it on mute and bring up the first contact, typing a quick message and getting ready. I might not make it out alive, but if I can at least let someone know where we are, Rory could live.
She’s also entering crisis mode. She dives into the back and grabs her backpack, rummaging through it quickly and digging out a small black piece of circuit board with a plug on the end. “Hide this. If you can keep it away from them, do it. If you can’t, destroy it.”
I have no idea what it does, but I only need to know she wants it hidden. I drop it into the slight gap behind the boot holster for my knife. They’re gonna take that anyway. If I’m lucky, it’s so small that they won’t see it.
We stare at each other for a long moment. Cupping her cheek with my fingers, I lean in and kiss her. “It’s been fun, smarty-pants.”
Her eyes glisten. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that these past few days have been the best of my life.”
Fuck.
“No matter what happens, you need to sit real still and stay down, okay?” Moving slowly, I put my hand on the door handle. Drawing a deep breath, I hold it for a count of three before cracking open the door and yelling, “Hold your fire! We surrender!”
In the first seconds of the chaos that follows, I quickly hit send and start a call before throwing my phone under the seat and walking out with my hands up.
28
DIESEL
“Shut up back there,Church is in fucking session.” Eagle-eye sits on the bar, putting him up above the rest of us, overlooking every single Screaming Eagle that could get here on short notice. Me and Bull are standing on the floor next to him. He might be running the show, but we're the ones who need the help.
No sluts or old ladies here. Church is members only. When club business gets serious, this is how we figure shit out.
Once everyone's quiet, Eagle-eye gets everyone up to speed. “So the short version, if you fuckers were sleeping, is that Shrapnel and a woman we're supposed to protect have been lured out of the compound. She’s Connor Whittaker’s daughter. You might’ve heard of him.” There’s a mix of nodding and blank stares. “He’s likely kidnapped too but fuck him. The important part is getting our brother and the innocent home.”
I climb up on the bar so everyone can see me. “Brothers, it fucking warms my heart to see all of you here, ready to help.”
“Stop the ass kissing and tell us what to do,” Chef yells from the side.
“Fine. Sorry for trying to be fucking polite. Here's the deal. We know which direction they drove, but we don't know more than that. Snark, you're the fucking nerd.”
He grins. “At your fucking service. Now treat me nice, or I’ll throttle your Wi-Fi and turn your porn into kitten videos.”
“Yeah, yeah. How’s the street cam tracking going? Any luck?”
