Silver Saints MC Volume 2 - Page 58

I felt a trickle of guilt at trying to get out of a job that had to do with one of my sister’s friends...but fucking hell. I was an enforcer, not a kindergarten teacher.

Mac stared at me.

After at least a full minute, I grunted in annoyance and asked, “What’s the story?”

“Needs our help getting away from her stepfather. He’s in deep with the mob, and apparently, he thinks he can sell his stepdaughter to pay off the debt.”

“Son of a bitch,” I snarled. How were there so many fucking jackasses in the world? A thought occurred to me then. “You call Nic?” Nic DeLuca was the head of the Italian Mafia in New York. He and Mac went way back. He sometimes helped us out with sticky situations, and we returned the favor when needed.

“Not yet. It’s the Ukrainian mob, and I don’t know how deep his connections go. I’ll see what he has to say, and we can discuss it after you get back.”

“Back?” Then I remembered the address on the paper. Well, shit. “Never mind. I’ll ask Patriot to fill in with anyone who doesn’t want to wait.” Next to me, Patriot, another patch, was the best tattoo artist we had.

Mac nodded. I pivoted around to head out the door, but just before I reached it, his voice stopped me. “Wouldn’t count on her handing you a ladder on this one, brother.”

Gritting my teeth, I flipped him the bird as I stalked down the hall, ignoring his laughter. Great. Just fucking great. Another stalk and steal job.

Mac had met his old lady when he kidnapped her for leverage against her father. When he climbed into her room, she had literally presented him with a ladder to aid their escape.

After squaring things with Patriot, I loaded a saddle bag with some food and water, an extra piece and ammunition, and a change of clothes. The girl was only a six-hour ride away, but I didn’t know how long it would take me to find an opportunity to snatch her.

I was walking out to my bike when my sister, Arya—who was also married to one of my brothers, Dax—came jogging to the door, calling my name. I immediately spun around and hurried over to her.

“Everything okay, sis?”

She nodded and handed me a picture. “I thought it would be helpful if you knew what she looked like since you’ve never met her. She was a year behind me in school, so she just graduated.” It wasn’t a shock that I didn’t know her friend. I adored my sister, but I avoided my hometown whenever possible. I went back fairly often to check on her but rarely stayed more than a night or two, and we always spent them catching up. Arya had always spent a good portion of her school breaks visiting me, and we took a vacation together during the summers. Even after we were both adults, it was always to Disney World. Though I threatened not to go again if she ever breathed a word of that to one of my club brothers.

“She’s seen pictures of you at the house, though, so she’ll recognize you.” Arya twisted her hands together and gave me a worried look. “She sounded so terrified when she called, Nova. Thank you for helping her.”

I glanced at it quickly, but once my eyes were on it, I couldn’t peel them away. My breath stalled in my lungs, and my heart began pounding in my chest.

A young woman stared back at me with sparkling green eyes and rosy red lips spread in a wide grin. She had a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her pert nose, and her head was surrounded by fluffy blond curls that went to just above her shoulders. The sun was shining down on her, and it lit up her hair like a halo around my angel.

As my eyes took in the rest of her, I managed to exhale, but my mouth went dry and my cock stood at attention.

Holy fucking shit. She was a bombshell—full-figured, an hourglass shape with mouthwatering curves, thick thighs, and big, luscious tits. I’d never seen anyone so fucking sexy in my life. I shook my head to clear my mind of all the images of what I would do to that body. Down boy, I instructed my cock harshly.

I didn’t even know her, for fuck’s sake! And she was a year younger than my little sister, which meant she was eleven years younger than me.

“Also...” Arya gestured to my Harley. “It’s just...I don’t think Rylee’s ever been on a bike, and a six-hour ride is kind of long for a beginner.”

I shoved the picture in my pocket and glowered at the ground, knowing if Dax caught me frowning at his wife—and it wouldn’t matter that she was my sister—he’d try to knock out my teeth.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Romance
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