Making the Break (Beating the Biker 2)

“It’s not.” Luke was grim as he washed and changed the bandages on Saks’ wound.

Saks wracked his brain, trying to figure out how all this happened. Chrissy mention two contractors from the DiMea family took the job to harass Saks, hired by the Rojos. Only it turned to something more, like felony-charges-pending more. “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“I got some information.”

“What information?”

“Family-type information. I heard the two men who invaded my home were mob connections from New Jersey.”

“Fuck.”

“But they were hired by the Rojos.”

“Rojos!” exploded Luke.

“They want to mess up the Spawn and the Roccos for getting their drug operation busted.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“Family,” he said. “I can’t say more.”

“And you’re sure it’s not that other crime family—”

“The Serafinis.”

“Yeah, are the Serafinis behind this?

“As far as I know, no.”

Luke helped Saks put on a clean shirt before grabbing the arm sling. “How do you know it’s not the Serafinis?”

Because Chrissy told him? That wasn’t going to work on Luke. His boss was an even-tempered guy, but when he was riled there was no telling what he’d do. He was a balls-to-the-wall guy when he was pushed.

That happened last year when the Rojos kidnapped Saks. Two men showed up at the Rojos’ clubhouse. That took balls. One of those men was Luke. And he didn’t leave until he had Saks on the back of his bike.

And a shooting certainly would push him. Luke’s eyes scrunched to where wrinkles showed at the corners. His mouth was twisted in a frown.

“This is fucking bullshit,” snapped Luke in frustration as he laced Saks’ boots. “No one’s going to get away with shooting a Spawn.”

Pounded erupted at Saks’ door and then swung open. Saks’ cousin, Louis, stood there.

“Luigi,” Saks said. His cousin hated to use the name on his birth certificate.

“Fuck you,” Louis said good-naturally. “But no time.”

“Sorry to hear about your man, Hawk.”

“Yeah,” said Luke acidly, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Louis pulled a notepad from inside his jacket pocket. “So, Roger—”

“His name is Hawk,” asserted Luke, staring at Louis as if he was the enemy.

“Yes, Mr. Wade, I’m aware,” said Louis, snapping into detective mode. “His driver’s license said Roger Spencer. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” gritted Luke.