I swung my leg over my bike. I’m going to get drunk, I decided. Absolutely shitfaced. Proper wake-up-in-another-state drunk. Maybe when I sobered up, it wouldn’t hurt so bad.#p#分页标题#e#
I started the bike up and checked over my shoulder before I pulled out, just to make sure a semi-truck wasn’t about to pancake me. Then I revved the throttle and—
I stopped and frowned, then turned and looked over my shoulder again. I’d glimpsed something in my peripheral vision. It took me a while to find it again….
There.
Two Harleys parked side by side in an alley, almost invisible from the street. Not ours. The custom paint job was red and black.
Blood Spiders.
I climbed off my bike, the shock making me slow. Here? Clubs are fiercely territorial. They don’t stray into another club’s town, not without a damn good reason.
I looked at the bus station...and started to run, fear clutching at my chest. Be wrong, I prayed. Be wrong….
I was halfway there when a dirty white van tore out of an alley and sped off down the street. As soon as I saw it, I knew. Then I saw the blond-haired Blood Spider from the auction follow it out on foot and race across the street to get his bike. He saw me, slowed to a jog and grinned at me victoriously. Why was the bastard grinning?
That’s when the second Blood Spider, the one I hadn’t seen, slammed his fist into the back of my head. As I fell, he followed it up with a vicious boot to the temple. I slumped to the sidewalk, everything spinning. I heard the echo of his boots as he joined his buddy, then the roar of their bike engines. As they turned to follow the van, the blond one swung wide so he could pass by me. I tried to get to my feet to take a swing at him, but I couldn’t get my arms and legs to work.
“Too bad, Irish,” he called. “Hope you had time to fuck her before we all do.” Then he twisted his throttle and roared off.
I stared at his bike as it grew smaller and smaller. Get up! But every tiny movement made my head pound. Get up! I tried to push at the sidewalk but my arms felt like wet cardboard.
She needs you! Get up!
I gave a low growl and heaved, sucking in air as the pain washed over me. I climbed to my knees, then to my feet. I stumbled towards my bike, moving faster and faster as the adrenaline started to kick in. By the time my ass hit the saddle, my head was almost clear.
And I was pissed.
“Irish?” a voice from the sidewalk. I turned and saw Tailor, one of the prospects, a paper bag of groceries in his arms.
“Get everyone!” I yelled. “Tell them to catch us on the highway!”
I started my bike. In my mirror, I saw Tailor drop the groceries and sprint off down the street towards the compound.
Already, the van was out of sight. I twisted the throttle and roared after them.
And prayed I could get her back.
18
Carrick
I roared down Main Street, weaving through the traffic. The light at the next intersection changed to red. I hunkered low on the bike, redlined the engine and sped across, drawing angry beeps. I wasn’t stopping for anything. This is my fault kept going through my head. If I hadn’t tried to send her away. If I hadn’t been such an evil bastard in the first place, so I didn’t have to….
If I got her back, I wasn’t letting her go again. I’d keep her close, keep her safe, even if I couldn’t be with her, even if it drove me fucking crazy. Because the thought of her in their hands—
I snarled and twisted the throttle all the way, blasting towards another red light. By the time I saw the bus coming across the intersection, it was too late to stop. I prayed...and flashed by just in time, the bus missing my back wheel by no more than a foot.
As we reached the edge of town, the road became twisty and I started to make up ground. Both the bikers were good riders but this was my turf: I knew every corner, knew exactly how fast I could push it. With every bend, they came a little closer. The fear was turning into anger, now, building and building the nearer I got.#p#分页标题#e#
I saw them turn their heads at the sound of my engine, then stare at me in shock. Yeah, that’s right, you bastards. I’m coming.
Both of them fumbled for guns. Amateurs, I thought viciously. It’s not like in the movies: it’s hard to ride and shoot, especially at something that’s moving. I could already see them wobbling as they tried to aim with one hand and steer with the other.
There’s a reason I wear a chain as a belt. I reached down and unfastened it, then slid it out of the loops. The nearest biker turned pale as he saw me bearing down on him, the chain dangling from my fist. He raised his gun and fired once, but his hand was shaking. Twice, but I veered and the bullet sang past my head. Then I was on him, swinging the chain. It caught him in the side of the head and he tilted, then the road grabbed hold of him and he and the bike went spinning along the pavement.