Reprisal (Tidals & Anchors MC 2) - Page 11



I had to admit that so far, I wasn’t entirely impressed with the Legend of Nero Rader. He seemed like an ordinary enough man with the exception of being chewed up and spit out by his MC. Saving him would be the ideal thing, but saving my family, my MC, was becoming far more important to me.

And now here I was; on my way to make a deal with the Devil in exchange for some peace. Survival was nothing I had ever thought of before, but when you’ve got the president of one of the most dangerous motorcycle clubs knocking down your front door and ordering you dead, shit has gotten pretty real.

I pulled up to the red light on Juniper Avenue and waited. I knew I was one left turn away from where the Tidals & Anchors MC clubhouse was. My destination wasn’t exactly the most ideal place in the world, but that’s where I was headed and I was going to walk in like I owned the fucking place.

The light seemed to be taking longer than normal and I sighed, dropping my hands onto my legs. From behind me, I heard the sound of bikes coming toward me and I chuckled. I had too; knowing my luck it would probably be Pardon and his damn goons coming to head me off and take me out right in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Bend.

I turned slightly and looked behind me. I didn’t recognize any of them as Pardon’s guys, so that was a small relief, but when one of them pulled up ahead of me, I felt a little uneasy. His bright red hair was the first thing I noticed, but then I saw the Tidals & Anchors cut and I wondered if he was the one I was looking for. But I knew I was faced with now or never since I was pretty much surrounded.

Clearing my throat, I glanced up at the light, before putting my hands back on the handlebars and pulling up next to him. He glanced over at me and smiled.

“Are you Dallas?” I asked in a choked voice. Goddamn it, Alaska. Get ahold of yourself.

“Are you Dallas?” I asked again in a clearer, more controlled tone.

He shook his head and jerked his head back. I turned again in time to for the light to apparently turn green and the rest of the crew that had been on either side of me and behind me, go around and take off. I rolled my eyes in frustration and took off after them. Picking up speed, I saddled up next to the redhead and signaled for him to pull over. He raised a curious eyebrow, but did it anyway.

I hadn’t exactly expected that everyone that was with him would pull over too, but shit had to get done, so if I had to, I would cross-examine all of them to figure out who among them was the one I needed.

“You alright?” the redhead asked me curiously.

“Which one of them is Dallas?” I asked, dismounting my bike and walking over to him.

“Who wants to know?” he shot back.

“I don’t have time to play games, kid. I need to know which one is Dallas.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him the deadliest look I could muster. Truth be told, I wasn’t feeling very deadly, I was just tired of the bullshit.

“I am.”


sp; I raised an eyebrow at the man that spoke up. Well, you aren’t you pretty? I was beginning to think that was a prerequisite of being in this fucking MC.

“Dallas as in the Tidals & Anchors President’s kid?” I asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. If it was any other day and I was in a different mood, I’d find myself amused. We looked like we were trying to out fierce the other, or getting ready to square dance.

“Good, let’s go then,” I said, walking back to my bike and getting on it. I roared the engine to life, expecting to hear an echo. I turned to look at Dallas who was still standing where I had left him. “Come on! I don’t have all fucking day!”

“Normally, if a hot chick pulled over one of my guys demanding to know who I was, then told me to follow her, I’d be all over it. But I’ve got kind of a club situation going on right now that’s making me wonder why we even stopped to talk to you. So unless you have some really damn good reason for pulling us over, I’d suggest you leave and never come back down this way,” he said evenly.

I ran a hand irritably back through my hair. Considering this was Pardon Quinn’s son, I couldn’t exactly shoot him and drag him back to my clubhouse, but I was losing my patience and was starting to think it would be a phenomenal idea. But I was a lady and decided to be ladylike in this instance.

“Suit yourself. I’ve got something you’re looking for though. You can find us both at the Femme Fatale Gentleman’s Club,” I replied with a shrug and pulling a U-Turn to go back the way I came.

I didn’t genuinely smile though until I heard the beautiful sound of all of the motorcycle engines following behind me. It had maybe taken him one or two seconds to decide that he should check out what I had to offer.

I really hope I’m doing the right thing.



I opened my eyes feeling stiff and shuttered. All I seemed to do was sleep lately and it was getting to be monotonous. However, this time when I woke up, Tumbler had been sitting in Alaska’s chair, flipping through a magazine.

Tags: Yolanda Olson Tidals & Anchors MC Romance
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