Is he going to kill me?
He grabs my wrist, flinging me around the corner where his two men stand next to a semi filled with large wooden crates.
“Help me get her into the truck,” Dan says to his men. “If you two would have kept your fucking mouths shut, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“No, please,” I stop walking but he drags me with him. “No one has to know anything.” I try to free my hand, but his grip tightens.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The two men step closer, one grabbing me by the ankles and the other grabbing my shoulders as they lift and toss me into the back of the semi.
As soon as I land on my ass, they shut the doors, locking me inside.
I slam my hand against the metal door, screaming out, telling them they can’t do this. I scream and scream as the semi’s engine roars to life.
Fuck this.
I search the crates, trying to find one of the guns. The semi pulls away, and I stumble but catch myself from falling.
Finally, I spot one of the guns, but of course, they’re not loaded.
That doesn’t mean I can’t use the butt of the gun as a weapon.
I sit near the door, waiting, biding my time until we get to wherever we’re going. There’s no way I’ll give up without a fight.
Eight
Silas
* * *
Betty leaving was the worst thing to happen to me. I hated her father wouldn’t listen, but I respect that she’s his daughter.
And now she needs space.
“What is with you man?” Henley asks, pushing his glasses further up his nose as he drives his F-150 down the interstate.
“Just thinking about Betty.” I told him the story earlier, about how her father pulled us over as soon as we left the club.
My guess is he was most likely spying on the clubhouse, waiting for one of us to fuck up.
We know better than that.
“Listen, I saw the way she looked at you. She’ll come around.”
“Yeah.” She better, ‘cause this ache in my chest just keeps getting stronger.
Heat rolls off the blacktop as we ride in silence. I turn the air higher, hoping it’ll help this burn in my heart. I hope we get the answers we’re looking for and Betty’s dad accepts the truth.
We pull up to their complex just before dark, knowing that we’ll need to stay out of sight. A semi sits near their clubhouse, and Henley glances at me.
“What do you think is in the semi?”
I raise a brow. “Guns?”
“That’s what I’m thinking too. If we can sneak inside, I can plant a few bugs.”
The action at the club appears to be happening in a bar they’ve got on property, so we should be able to slip inside their main clubhouse, which is its own separate building. Hopefully.
Either way, we’re ready to fight for the answers we so desperately need.
Right before we walk down the hill toward the clubhouse, a man opens the doors of the semi, and we crouch behind a van in the abandoned lot across from their complex. We’re not close enough to hear what anyone’s saying, but we can see what’s going on.
“Is that Betty?” Henley asks as the door swings open and a woman, yielding a gun, whacks the guy across his face.
Fuck. “Yeah, that’s her.”
I pull out my phone, texting Dragon. “Come now. Send the police too.”
He answers back, “Heard.”
Another man yanks the gun away from her and wrestles her to the ground. I’m going to pulverize him. No one touches my woman. And that’s when I see that motherfucker from her store.
I nod at Henley, letting him know we’ve got backup on the way. And we make our move. I replace my phone with the gun in my waistband, make sure it’s racked, and head closer to the clubhouse in a full on sprint, knowing I need to get to Betty before they do.
Henley’s hot on my heels as we race across the abandoned lot and rush along the semi from their blind side. No one sees us and we both aim our guns, knowing once we reach the back there’ll be plenty of Golden Snakes club members to fight.
“Let her go,” I say, aiming my gun at the man who’s holding her.
“Silas,” she whispers, and I nod at her, letting her know that we’ve got this.
“How did you get in here?” one Snake hisses. I think his name is Patch, or Snatch, or something else just as ridiculous.
“I told you we needed a fence around our property,” another member says, one I don’t recognize.
“I won’t say it again.” I keep my gun trained on the man who holds Betty in his grip.
The man glances at Dan West, and I focus my eyes on him. “So, you’re running this shit show?”
He nods. “I am, and you’re not invited.” He aims a weapon at me, and before he can even get a round off, I’m squeezing my trigger.