Deadline to Damnation (Sons of Templar MC 7)

“Call me when you land,” I demanded.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Sure, because how else would you know I arrived safely, it’s not like a major airline crash would be on the news or anything,” she shot dryly.

I flipped her the bird. My vision blurred a little. “Thank you for coming, Emily. You’re a good friend.”

“I know I am,” she replied.

I grinned. “And modest.”

“I took a bullet for you, sister,” she said, waving her sling. “I’ll be dining out on this for years.” Her expression turned serious. “Make sure that’s the only bullet aimed in your direction. I can’t have a shooting mucking up my schedule again.”

I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do better,” she said, voice almost soft. “I’m very glad Liam has come back from the dead much hotter and deadly and from what I can tell, better in the bedroom. I’m even glad he’s in an outlaw motorcycle club because no man with a normal job or lifestyle would’ve been able to hold your attention or stop you from getting off to war zones. But I’m also not at all glad that you’re not jetting off to a warzone. You’re in the middle of one.” She paused. “Just don’t get shot, okay?”

A lump emerged in my throat. I swallowed roughly. “Okay,” I agreed.

“Good.” Then she snatched her suitcase and walked away.

Emily didn’t do goodbyes.

“Fuck,” Swiss muttered as blue lights flashed behind us.

We’d barely left the airport, which was an hour away from the clubhouse, since their town was nowhere near large enough to boast even a small airport.

And this town did not boast a paid off police force.

Not that Swiss was even speeding.

“Don’t say anything,” he commanded as he pulled over.

I gave him a look. “Really? You think this is the point I’d decide to tell the authorities I’m being held prisoner?”

He scowled in response.

The window opened.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

Because Detective Rickens was at the window.

“Can you step out of the vehicle, please?” he asked politely. He smiled at me. “Both of you.”

Jagger

“They should’ve been here hours ago,” he hissed, pacing the room. He shouldn’t have let fucking Swiss take her, it was under his watch that Caroline got shot at last night. But she’d stormed out and he’d been frozen by the pain in her voice at his careless words that he didn’t have the wherewithal to fucking chase her. To follow her on his bike.

He couldn’t have even done that if he wanted to. Not after last night. There was no more slow, he’d called Rosie to let her know that. She’d agreed. There was a plan to ride out to Amber in the coming weeks, get a battle strategy ready, figure out how the fuck they were going to smoke Fernandez out of whatever compound he was hiding in.

There was talk of sending in a couple of their best, Gage, Bull, Brock, Jagger himself. But that would not be as satisfying. But it would make it over.

It needed to be fucking over.

“We’ve got prospects, Blake and Claw out on the road, checking,” Hansen said, expression blank but his eyes were worried.

Because they both knew that Caroline and Swiss had not stopped for fucking ice cream. Neither of them had answered their phones. At first, Jagger had reasoned that Caroline was rightfully ignoring him. Then it became apparent that it was something else.

“Yeah, we know they’re not on the fucking road,” Jagger hissed, unable to get the last conversation they had out of his mind. It made him sick to his stomach. He’d fucking threatened her with going through his death again if she got hurt. In a situation he’d fucking forced her into.

What kind of piece of shit was he?

“Wire should be calling us any second with the trace on the cellphones,” Hansen said.

“I can’t lose her, brother,” he admitted, inches away from losing it. “I can’t fucking lose her.”

Hansen’s jaw went hard. “This club is not losing anyone else. She is part of this club.”

And she was. He wasn’t quite sure when it happened. But she was part of it. And he wasn’t sure if that made him happy. She was part of his club and that meant she couldn’t go out with her friend without getting shot at. Without getting her friend shot. She couldn’t drive to the airport without running into…whatever the fuck she’d run into. How much more was this war going to take from him? Was it really going to take away his second chance with Caroline?

Was he really going to let it?

Hansen’s phone rang.

Jagger’s head snapped up as he watched him open it. His president betrayed nothing. “Thanks, brother.” He hung up. “Got them. They’re at the Liesten police department.

Caroline

“This is bullshit,” I said as Detective Rickens placed the third shitty cup of coffee in front of me. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”