Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Before the thought is over, I hear gunshots. They’re close. I turn to Ace, nodding because he hears them too. Over my shoulder, I see three shiny sports bikes behind us. There are no visible patches, no kuttes, but it’s clear Ace and I are the target. “Who the fuck are they?”
Ace shrugs. “No fucking clue,” he shouts over the roar of his chopper engine.
I risk a glance over my shoulder again. The bikers haven’t advanced on us, which is weird since those bikes are meant for speed. There’s no time to stop and call or text for help. So, it’s just me and Ace against these three assholes.
Another shot whizzes by my helmet, and I slow down just enough to keep my bike straight while I pull out my weapon. I nod for Ace to go ahead of me, and I slow down a bit to see what these fuckers will do if I get too close. I watch them in my mirror while Ace pulls out his massive Desert Eagle. He lets his shooting arm hang at his side.
The next shot that rings out hits my right handlebar, and I suck in a deep breath, remembering the first time I shot at someone.
I was on the back of someone else’s bike, just a sixteen-year-old punk, but my cousin’s words come back to me. “Breathe in and aim, exhale and shoot.”
I turn and do just that at the asshole on the bright blue bike, smiling when his head shoots back. He falls off the bike, and his buddies swerve like they’ve never ridden bikes before just to avoid crashing.
“Thank fuck,” I shout and speed up. I keep Ace in my sights, and we’re a comfortable distance from those fuckers.
“Nice shot,” Ace shouts and then swerves, twisting in a defensive motion to avoid the shots suddenly ringing out behind us.
“Cover me,” he says, and I do, laying down fire so he can jet forward, spin in a one-eighty and bust out two shots that hit the dude on the red bike twice, center mass.
I catch up to Ace and offer up my fist for a bump. He taps it and nods for us to speed up. We do, pressing our bikes to the limit for a good three or four miles before looking back. The yellow bike is still behind us, but way behind because, apparently, he doesn’t want any of what his buddies just got.
“Let’s get back to the clubhouse. ASAP,” Ace mouths into the air, whizzing past our speeding bikes.
I nod, and with a smile, gun it on the new blacktop. Cheating death is the second-best adrenaline rush to filling up a woman with my cock, and knowing we were just outnumbered and outgunned but came out the victors? That shit feels fucking great.
Pulling into the Club HQ just a few minutes later, with my heart still racing, I hop off my bike and lock the security gate that leads into Angel Harbor Choppers while Ace heads to the clubhouse.
Until lockdown is over, the business operates on limited hours, so we keep a close eye on who comes and goes on the property. After that highway shootout, we will be on extra alert for the next few days.
I unpack the loads of cash strapped on my bike and head inside. Ace is describing the ambush to Shades, Dix and Coop, so I drop the cash in front of Shades since MC money is his job and turn to Ace.
“You think those fuckers are rogue Iron Kings?”
“Could be,” he answers with a grunt, “but the lack of insignia means it could be anybody. The Kings aren’t the only ones who want a piece of Angel Harbor.”
“True,” Dix adds, “but who else would be dumb fuck enough to come after us in broad daylight?” He shakes his head, his hands balling into fists because he knows what we all know. This isn’t close to over yet.
“My money says it’s retaliation for the fire,” Ace answers finally. “It’s likely the Kings, but we don’t know what lies Nogales is spreading. And that’s exactly why we need to find him.” He flashes a devilish smile. “If so, that’s two more dead Iron Kings, which I consider a damn good start to any day.”
“Amen, brother,” Shades says, smirking. He smacks a hand over the bags of cash around him for emphasis.
Wild Man walks in, frowning at the five of us. “A meeting I wasn’t invited to?”
“Nah,” I say and explain to him about the shootout. “You look like you got something on your mind?”
Wild Man nods and turns his attention back to the tablet in his hand. “I got some more intel on properties owned by Nogales. He and Hector are a little too fond of shell corporations, but the dumbasses aren’t smart enough to hide them. Anyway,” he sighs and flips the screen around so we can see his intel.