Page 6 of Raze
Tank and Kash fall in behind, their bikes rumbling like a war drum, moving slower than me as they pull the trailer of our stolen stash—now back in its rightful hands.
The warehouse fades into the night as we tear down the highway, the wind sharp against my face.
Nico’s grip is steady, his body too close, and I clench my jaw, forcing myself to focus.
This is business. He’s a lead, nothing more.
I’m gonna get the full lowdown on whoever he’s working for—names, places, plans.
I don’t care what I have to do to get it. Break his fingers, scare him shitless, whatever it takes.
But that grin, those eyes—they’re trouble, the kind that could make a man like me forget the rules. Nico’s hot as hell, and he knows it too. He’s probably imagining all the things he could do, all the promises he could make me in exchange for him walking away from this unscathed. But that’s not the way I work. Nico ain’t met a Wolf Rider before.
The clubhouse is twenty miles out, a fortress of cinderblock and steel where we handle business like this.
Nico’s not getting out until I knoweverything.
And if he thinks he can charm his way past me, he’s about to learn how wrong he is. My hands tighten on the handlebars, the road stretching out like a promise of violence.
Revenge is sure as hell my religion, and tonight, I’m its preacher.
But as Nico’s fingers dig into my waist, I feel a heat that’s got nothing to do with vengeance, and it’s pissing me off. I tell myself it’s just the adrenaline, just the hunt.
But deep down, I know this kid’s already under my skin…
Chapter 3
Nico
The Harley’s engine roars beneath me, a deep, throaty growl that vibrates through my bones, sending a jolt straight to my core.
“You good back there?” Raze hollers, his voice barely audible. “Don’t go getting any ideas. You jump off, you don’t wake up.”
“Got it,” I holler back, doing my best to keep my tone as neutral as possible.
I’m pressed against Raze’s back, my thighs gripping the bike, my hands clutching his waist like it’s the only thing keeping me from flying off into the night. The wind whips my hair, sharp and cold against my face, but it’s not enough to cool the heat building inside me.
Damn it, I can’t help it—the feel of the motorcycle, all power and rumble, is doing things to me.
And Raze? His strong, sturdy body, solid as a goddamn wall, isn’t helping.
His leather vest smells like smoke and danger, and every time he shifts, I feel the flex of muscle under my fingers. He’s hot ashell, no denying it, and my body’s betraying me, stirring in ways it shouldn’t when I’m one wrong move from a bullet.
As my cock grows and aches inside my pants, I can only hope and pray that this Wolf Rider asshole doesn’t notice. I’ve heard how these Wolf Rider men treat boys, and the last thing I want is to end up as one of their playthings, passed around, used, and thrown away at the end of the night. It might only be the fact that I’ve got information on the gang that ripped them off that’s keeping me from that fate as it is…
Fuck. This isn’t good.
I need to get my mind right.
This is serious—life-or-death serious.
I’m on the back of a Wolf Rider’s bike, heading to their clubhouse, caught red-handed with their stolen goods. These aren’t the lowlife punks I’m used to running with, guys like Snake and Tito who talk big but fold under pressure.
The Wolf Riders are the real deal, the kind of crew whispered about in dive bars, their name carrying weight like a blade. I’ve heard the stories—bodies left in ditches, rivals burned out of town, loyalty that runs deeper than blood.
And Raze? He’s their enforcer, the one they send to break bones and settle scores.
I saw it in his eyes back at the warehouse, that storm-dark glare that said I was already dead. My cocky grin and quick talk might’ve bought me a few minutes, but I’m not stupid enough to think I’m out of this yet.
