Coop (Reckless Souls MC 1)

“You kids today,” he scoffs. “You wouldn’t know anything about quality work if it jumped up and bit ya in the ass.”

“I feel like I’d recognize anyone that’s biting my ass,” I joke because that’s all that was left for me to do. “Show me how it’s done, old-timer.”

“Young enough to whip your ass,” he shoots back as he tosses me a pair of overalls.

“Young enough to try,” I clarify with a smug grin. “You know you’re only like two years older than me.” I gave his back a harder than necessary pat. “Good thing I’m on your team, isn’t it?”

“Asshole,” he grumbles absently, circling the bike with extreme focus.

Ace and I put in a few good hours working on the bike, stripping off the years of multiple paint jobs, scraping off rust and melted leather.

We put a big dent in the work needed to get the bike running. It was a good distraction, but not good enough for me to forget that Kelsey has stood me up or is in serious trouble.

One more hour, I tell myself. One more hour, and then I’m going to track her down.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kelsey

When I finally come to, I sigh in relief that the black bag is gone, no longer shielding my view of the world around me. I breathe a little easier that I’m not inside that rape van anymore.

I blink a few times to focus my vision, figure out where the hell those stupid thugs have taken me, and realize that I’m in a warehouse.

My first clue is the cement floor, hard and stained with what smells like some kind of car oil. Next are tall shelves, as far as I can see, stacked high with boxes full of God only knows what.

The distinct lack of city noises makes me believe I’m somewhere on the outskirts of Angel Harbor. I’m in trouble.

Big fucking trouble.

Coop’ll never find me here. Nor will the police.

I sit up and look around to take in every detail of my surroundings just in case there’s a way out of this hellscape. The windows are high up, too high to gauge what time it is or how long I’ve been here.

I reach for my back pocket, but I’m stopped by a hard plastic tie tight around my wrists. No clocks on the wall, no computers I can see, no tech whatsoever, so I’m not only tied up, I’m basically blind.

A squeaking metal door sounds behind me, and I turn to see who it is. The mean guy from the bar where I met Coop. The one Joaquin was yelling at.

I think Nogales is his name, and he’s wearing the ugliest, most disgusting smile I have ever seen.

His eyebrows dip into a phony pout.

“Not happy to see me, sweetheart? Too bad ’cause I’m really happy to see you.” Just in case I don’t get the clever point he’s making, Nogales rubs a hand over his crotch.

I ignore his innuendo and notch my chin high in the air.

“What do you want with me, and why am I here?” If all else fails, acting like a dissatisfied customer is a good way to get some answers. Not sure if it works on bikers, but what other chance do I have?

The thumping sound of boots come from behind me, and my body goes absolutely cold. The long strides tell me it’s a man, but I can only guess who he is.

“It’s not about what he wants; it’s about what I want.”

The voice is totally unfamiliar, and I turn slowly to find a handsome Hispanic man with a scar on his left cheek. His skin is smooth, and he’s also dressed like a biker. Like Nogales, only his patch says President.

“Who are you?” I have a feeling I know exactly who this man is, if not by name, then by reputation.

He smiles and takes me by the wrists, still secure in the zip ties, and lifts me until I’m on my feet before he steadies me with wide hands and long fingers that take every opportunity to graze my skin.

“My name,” he purrs and takes one of my hands in his, brushing a kiss across my knuckles, “is Hector Santos, and it is my absolute pleasure to meet the girl, no, the woman who has captured Dallas Cooper’s interest.”

Hector Santos. The archenemy of Coop’s motorcycle club. And he knows Coop’s real name. That’s who kidnapped me. Now I am officially scared because that means I’m some type of leverage against the Reckless Souls.

“I would say the same, but your man kidnapped me in broad daylight, threatened me, and hit me over the head. Not very hospitable of you, Mr. Santos.”

I lift my hands to show off the red skin beneath the zip ties.

His laugh is deep and melodic. It would be charming if I didn’t know who this guy was and what he was capable of doing.