Outlaw's Promise(41)

No. Maybe she could change but I couldn’t. I stared right back at her and sipped my own coffee. Stay cold. Lock her out. It was the smart thing to do, the only thing to do.

So why was it so hard?



Mac was waiting outside the clubhouse when we roared up. “We’re just waiting for Ox,” he told me. I saw him glance at Annabelle as she climbed off the bike, then look questioningly back at me. She’d spent the night at my place, after all….

I gave a minute shake of my head.

He looked at me as if I was insane. Then his expression changed to—

Fuck you, Mac. I don’t need your pity. I climbed off my bike and turned away, pretending I was watching the gate for any sign of Ox. But being mad at him felt wrong, just like staying away from Annabelle felt wrong. We never used to fight. Not until she came along.

To my relief, Scooter ambled over. But it wasn’t me he wanted to talk to.

He came to a stop beside Annabelle and looked her up and down suspiciously. “Last night,” he told her, “I stripped Hunter’s bike down. Just to prove you wrong.”

Annabelle blinked at him, flushing.

“I don’t know how you knew,” Scooter said, “but the timing was off.” He crossed his arms and stared at her grumpily for a few seconds, then seemed to make up his mind. “You want to give me a hand fixing it?”

Annabelle’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Scooter led her off towards the workshop.

I heard the gate rumble open and turned to see Ox finally arrive. Mac nodded towards the clubhouse. “Let’s do this.”

Moments later, we were sitting around the table as Hunter told us what he’d learned. “The Blood Spiders are dealing coke. They have an old sawmill outside Teston where they cut and repackage it. Only three guards. Their pres, Hay, stops by there once a week.”#p#分页标题#e#

“How the hell did you find all that out?” asked Ox.

“Their clubhouse has a meeting room too. Gets real stuffy, so they open a skylight to let some air in. I was lying on the roof next to it. Heard everything they said.”

I shook my head in wonder. I could imagine him lying there, patient and motionless as any army sniper, soaking up every word. His skills would be scary if he wasn’t on our side.

“Hay will be there today in about two hours’ time,” said Hunter. “We should move.”



We took seven men, enough to ensure we outnumbered Hay and the guards but not so many that we couldn’t be quiet. We rode in a pack, silently eating up the miles, all of us brooding on what needed to be done. There’s no better feeling in the world to me than riding but something felt wrong. Something was missing. I was riding next to Ox and he wasn’t happy either, his mouth turned down in a scowl I didn’t often see. Any Blood Spider who got in his way was going to have a very bad day.

Every few miles, I had to loosen my fingers on the handlebars because I was crushing them too tight. I couldn’t help it. I kept thinking about how Hay had put Annabelle up on stage, stripped her down to her underwear and tried to sell her. Now I was finally going to see the bastard again.

Hunter led us to the sawmill and showed us a side road where we could hide our bikes. We crept the final hundred yards on foot, approaching over the crest of a hill. The sawmill sat beside a river, a crumbling red brick place with holes in the roof. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was abandoned.

Hunter crept down for a closer look and reported there were only three guards, just as he’d promised. Twenty minutes later, Hay rode up on his Harley. My chest tightened as soon as I saw him, the rage boiling up inside me, but I forced myself to stay calm. A beat-up car pulled up behind Hay and his blond-haired VP got out. I was satisfied to see that one of his hands was bandaged from where I’d hit him with the chain. It must have really dented his pride to be driving instead of riding.

We waited until everyone went inside, then burst in. I was the first one through the door, smashing it open so hard that it knocked the guard behind it flying. I brought a fist up under the chin of the second guard, knocking him on his ass. Meanwhile, Mac and the others burst through the rear door. One punch from Ox’s ham-sized fist and the final guard went down like a puppet with its strings cut.

That left Hay and his VP. I stormed over to them and they both backed up against the wall, faces going white. I gave a low growl and—

Mac sprinted forward and got in front of me. “I got this,” he said quickly. “Back off.”

For a second, I just stood there panting, frowning at him in confusion.