Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(67)

Stopping at the last fill up station before all hell broke lose, I did a quick call to Blackjack. The boys were at least a solid hour behind. Told him everything was fine back in Tacoma, and asked for an update.

They'd gotten slowed down by the storms more than me, despite leaving sooner, and one of the Tacoma guys had to stop for engine trouble on the way down.

Fucking great.

Great for me and the killer angel riding with me, the best chance Elle Jo had at being saved before the Dragons did worse.

Blackjack was damned right about one thing – the hunger.

I couldn't shake it, the firestorm raging through my system. My finger burned every time I thought about squeezing the trigger with those motherfuckers in my sights.

Blood for blood. Vengeance. Salvation.

They had to die so we could live. The way of the universe, kill or be killed, all I'd ever known. Except now I had something more important than that shit on the line.

I had Elle Jo, and I'd sworn an oath on everything I had to protect her. I wasn't gonna disappoint her again, if by some miracle the assholes hadn't already fucked her over.

If they'd stuck their greasy cocks anywhere near her, I swore to fucking God...a lot of men were going to die the worst deaths possible.

The old plant they'd picked as a base looked like a goddamned castle on the horizon. I had to pull my bike into an abandoned weigh station to get a good look.

The bastards were definitely there. Saw them through my binoculars, a couple sharp dressed Dragons out on patrol, lazily walking around the edges of the high gate topped with rusted barbed wire.

Had to find my perch. Had to pray they weren't smart enough to have their own sniper, but I'd never seen anybody up against our club yet who had the cutting edge shit made for murder on my bike.

The whole area had seen better times. The abandoned power plant was flanked by several old warehouses and factories with busted out windows. Leaving my bike parked at the rear, I headed for the one I'd seen with the most smashed windows, giving me several good places to set up shop and figure out who's head I'd blow apart first.

I climbed about a dozen flights of stairs to reach some high ground. The place was a fucking disaster zone with broken floors and exposed beams. I kicked aside several ratty sleeping bags on my way in, trash left by bums or urban explorers who'd come through over the years.

Taking a careful look around on the top floor, I made sure it was just me and ghosts here. Then I stayed low, making sure nobody saw my shadow filling the few remaining windows. The rifle went up fast, and I warmed it with my greedy hands, priming myself for action as I looked through the scope.

Shit had one hell of a magnifier. I could see the Dragons better than I could through my binoculars. The early morning light coming over the horizon helped too.

Fucking waiting game. I had to be patient, wait for just the right moment to start dropping the fuckers.

All the time I'd spent on the range learning exotic weapons was about to pay dividends. I held my breath, struggling to keep my white hot rage from making me pull the trigger as I watched those fucks shuffle through my scope, oblivious to the fact that they were all about to be snuffed out like goddamned flies.

I wanted to see that fucker, Zee, poke his head out. Elle described him to a tee, so I knew exactly what to look for, an older man with graying hair and crazy fucking eyes.

If I could pop his head, it'd sew confusion in the ranks. They'd be falling to pieces by the time the boys pulled up, ripe for slaughter, and then –

“Fuck,” I muttered, stunned to see the same white van that drove outta the warehouse we'd blown to kingdom come in Tacoma.

It rounded the corner and parked next to the old loading dock. The driver got out and opened the doors, waiting while several of his boys marched outside, towing a prisoner behind them.

Gil looked like absolute shit. The motherfuckers had carved up his face, lacing it with thick, deep cuts, shit that wouldn't just scar and fade if he managed to live through today. The stump where his hand had been hung limply at his side, and he walked like they'd fucked up one knee, dragging his right leg behind him.

What came out behind him was even worse. I saw Elle being dragged in chains, manhandled by two sick motherfuckers.

My vision through the scope went blood red. My finger trembled on the fucking trigger. I narrowed my field of vision to the assholes holding her, looking for a reason to shoot their heads off, plus anything that would prevent my girl from getting shot or stabbed the moment I did.

That was the damned catch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

They were taking them away. Relocating. Running like the vermin they were.

I couldn't let them drive the fuck off! Steam hissed out my mouth in a cold puff as I sighed, sucking in a big breath to hold.

Watching, waiting, hoping for a miracle.