Train's Clash (Biker Bitches 4) - Page 118

When they were inside and driving out of the parking lot, Train was about to ask Shade what he needed his bag for, when Shade stopped him, shaking his head.

Train gripped the steering wheel tighter, becoming worried about what they were heading into.

Shade turned up the radio and took a pen out of the glovebox. Train couldn’t see what he was writing in the dark, and Shade didn’t attempt to give him the note until they had stopped at a red light in town.

Train took the note from him, reading it.

I didn’t ask Stud about buying a bike.

He crumpled it in his hand, giving it back to Shade.

When the light turned red, he floored the gas pedal, the note sending a sense of urgency through his bloodstream. He didn’t know why Shade didn’t want to talk, but he never questioned what he was thinking. It was obvious Stud was sending a private warning, needing Shade to come.

Stud didn’t know that Shade was in the same special forces unit as Train, but Hammer and Jonas did. Anytime there was a mission, silence was mandatory. They each had a special phone they carried all the time. Neither him or Shade had heard from their unit commander, which was Hammer until the next round of recruitment when he was done for good. It could only mean one thing: a special mission that Hammer had instigated himself. That was the only thing that made sense.

He turned into the Destructors’ parking lot, maneuvering the truck and trailer past the rows of bikes. At the back of the club, he saw Stud waiting on his bike.

As soon as Shade and Train got out, Stud tossed Train the keys to his new bike.

“Let’s get Shade’s bike off the trailer. Hammer is waiting.”

With three of them helping unload Shade’s bike, it only took minutes. Then Shade pulled out his black duffle bag, sliding the strap through his arms.

When Shade would have gotten on his bike, Stud stopped him.

“Take mine. I’m going to ride yours.”

Shade wasn’t happy, but he switched bikes without arguing.

As they got to the end of the parking lot, Stud motioned for them to stop.

“Give me your phones. All of them.” Stud held his hand out.

Shade and Train looked at each other. They were putting their lives in Stud’s hands, willing to follow where he led them, yet now he wanted them to give him their only way of communicating to The Last Riders?

“Hurry! We’ve got to go, or they’ll leave without you,” Stud warned.

Train had gotten to know Stud since he had started seeing Killyama, and he had started to respect the man almost as much as Viper. Therefore, both of them handed Stud their four phones, watching as he put them in his jacket pockets.

“When we get there, I’ll point out the building, but I’m not stopping. The door will be open. May God be with you, brothers.” Stud revved his engine, peeling out.

Train and Shade followed him closely, wondering what the hell they were going into.

They were a couple of miles from the club when Stud pointed toward a large building as he kept going, while Train and Shade slowed down, turning into the parking lot.

Train’s adrenaline started pumping when he recognized a few of the cars. Hammer’s, Tracker’s, and O’Neil’s, all members of their elite team, showed it was a high-level mission.

Shade met his eyes before he went through the door. Then Train really knew how bad it was when he saw the number of men getting into their gear.

“Train and Shade are here.” Hammer’s yell had all the men stopping.

“Did someone die and we don’t know?” Train muttered to Shade, feeling a chill travel the length of his spine at the look the men were giving them.

Shade shrugged off his duffel bag. “I have a bad feeling about this one. I have since you told me what Stud said.”

They went to a large table where plans were laid out.

“I’ve scheduled ten minutes to explain what’s going on. You being late has taken three of them, so let’s get started. Gather around!” Hammer shouted out.

Train watched as the men left what they had been doing to gather around them. When a woman stood up that he hadn’t seen sitting at the back of the building, his control slipped, his anger coming out.

“Why in the fuck is Killyama here?”

Train had to put up with her chasing felons across two states, he damn sure wasn’t going to put up with her going on a mission when they were loaded up with enough artillery to take out a small country.

Killyama felt Train’s dark eyes drilling holes into her as she walked over to the command table. She loved him, so she would bear his hatred for her until this mission was over. Then she would get out of his life. Because … what he was about to hear was going to hurt him enough.

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