Page 69 of Motorycle Daddies

I hear a moan and realize Trap is finishing off his last target nearby. He grins as he appears next to me in the darkness, just as covered in blood as I am.

“That was fun,” he announces, wiping his hands on his dark pants.

Several bird calls alert me to the fact that everyone is successful. Only the guards inside the house remain.

Sweat drips down my spine despite the cool air. We need to hurry. When it’s discovered the explosions haven’t actually damaged our targets the other guards will come rushing back and bring extra enforcement with them. I want victory, not a death trap.

Gunshots erupt as we go through the front and back doors as one unit. Trap and I run past the fights, loud screams of anguish following our steps, and jog down the stairs to the basement, firing as we go.

To our surprise, there’s no guard in the dank, foul-smelling place. It’s obvious why none is required when we find Skeeter.

She’s unconscious, knocked out either by drugs or from the bleeding lump on her head. She obviously didn’t go down without a fight. She won’t wake up, so Trap lifts her to carry her out.

Everything is quiet upstairs. Too quiet. It’s eerie, the calm before an expected storm.

“Are they all dead?” I ask.

“No, we left some alive to let this MC know we don’t play games the way they do.”

I nod and say, “Then let’s get the hell out of here before the rest return. We got lucky tonight.”

The others head back to the clubhouse to debrief with those who come back from the bombings. Trap and I take Skeeter to the hospital. There we learn that three others sustained injuries from the explosion sites—two gunshots and a burn from flying debris.

Grizzly is pleased with the way things went down. Not one of us is dead, and the injuries are far less concerning than what we know will happen next. Those we’ve left alive to tell the story will bring some form of retaliation upon us.

By morning we discover what they have in mind.

“They’re terrorizing the women at the shelter,” a prospect reports. “It looks like the entire MC is riding around the building, getting closer and closer with each pass. They’re tearing up the yard, tossing rocks through the windows, and shouting profanity. One rock held a threatening note stating they could destroy the shelter anytime it pleases them.”

“Have they actually tried to enter or take anyone?” Grizzly asks while reaching for his gun and shoving it into the back of his pants.

“Not according to the woman who alerted us. It’s mainly scare tactics, and it’s working. The women are crying and hiding under beds and in closets. It’s bringing back memories of their past lives, which I assume is what the Bratva wants,” I reply, still hanging onto my phone where I can hear the wails of the women we’re supposed to be protecting.

The roar of bikes departing reaches us. We rush out to join our brothers who are heading for the shelter.

“What if this is meant to distract us, the same as we did to them?” Trap asks. “We can’t leave anyone here unprotected.”

“Let the others deal with the shelter. The three of us will keep Meredith and the rest safe,” Grizzly decides. “Call back a few to stand guard while we check on Meredith.”

39

MEREDITH

“I’m fine. Why are all of you coddling me this way? It’s suffocating me,” I say curtly. I’m worried that somehow they’ve discovered my secret and just aren’t telling me.

“Because the Bratva are known for their retaliation techniques. They find great enjoyment in hurting innocents who matter the most to their enemies. That means you, in our case,” Grizzly explains impatiently.

“Then why did you leave men alive to tell them who caused the explosions?” I ask, frustration making me antsy.

“We wanted them to know we don’t play games, and to tell them just how ruthless we can be. They’d have known it was us anyway considering we came to rescue one of our own. Don’t worry yourself about all this. It’s our deal, not yours. Just stop arguing with us and let us keep you safe from harm,” Dart replies with a grin.

“You mean you want me to stay in my room and behave until you’re all ready for some fun, don’t you? I’m not a child or stupid. Sometimes the way I’m treated gets on my nerves.”

My temper is short. They all look baffled by my current behavior. I’m usually calm and docile, ready for their attention and practically begging for kisses and more.

Not now. Hormones are taking over and turning me into a shrew at odd times. I take deep breaths and get my unnatural temper under control before adding an apology. “I’m sorry. This all is so overwhelming. I guess I’m scared. Can’t I at least go see Addy? It would ease some of the anxiety,” I declare hopefully.

“It’s not safe at the moment, but there are other ways to settle your nerves,” Trap proclaims as he rises to take me in his arms for a steamy kiss.

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