Page 13 of Brooks

“Red Devils,” sneered one of the Pistons, a tall man with a scar running down the side of his face. “You’ve got some balls coming into our territory.”

“Give us Tina and Kennedy, and we’ll leave without any trouble,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re not here to fight.”

“Too bad,” spat the scarred biker, pulling out a knife and brandishing it menacingly. “Ace wants you all dead.”

“Enough talk,” growled Tank, reaching for the shotgun strapped to his bike. “Let’s do this.”

Shots rang out, metal clashing against metal as we charged toward our enemies. I ducked and weaved through the chaos, adrenaline fueling my every move. I’d been in fights before, but this was different—this was war.

My thoughts raced as I tried to make sense of the battlefield. We needed a plan, something that would give us an advantage in this unfamiliar territory. I remembered a tactic we’d used in the past, one that required precision and timing but had saved our asses more than once.

“Zane,” I shouted over the din of battle, “get some of the boys and flank them from the right. We’ll hit them from both sides.”

“Got it,” he replied, nodding before barking orders at a few nearby Red Devils.

As our brothers moved into position, I focused on keeping the Pistons’ attention on us. Tank unloaded round after round, forcing them to take cover behind their bikes. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and sweat, a potent reminder of how close we were to death.

“NOW!” I yelled, my voice raw as Zane and his team burst from their hiding spots, catching the Pistons off guard. They never stood a chance.

In the skirmish's aftermath, I surveyed the wreckage with a heavy heart. We had won this battle, but at what cost? How many more of these confrontations would we have to face before we found Tina and Kennedy?

But even as the weight of our situation bore down on me, I knew there was no other choice. We would face whatever dangers The Pistons threw at us, using our knowledge and experience to navigate this perilous territory. Because we were the Red Devil’s MC—loyal, determined, and willing to do whatever it took to protect our own.

Weary and bloodied, but still standing, we pushed deeper into Pistons’ territory. The persistent growl of our Harleys was the only sound that cut through the cold night air, a haunting reminder we were alone in this treacherous land.

“Brooks!” Zane shouted over the rumble of engines, drawing my attention. “Ryder got intel on another possible location. We’re heading there now.”

“Let’s hope it’s the right one,” I muttered under my breath, my grip tightening on the handlebars.

As we approached the derelict warehouse, I couldn’t help but notice the unusual silence that enveloped the area. It sent an unsettling shiver down my spine.

“Something’s not right,” I whispered to Zane. “Stay sharp.”

“Always am,” he replied, his eyes scanning the perimeter.

With caution, we dismounted our bikes and crept towards the warehouse, my heart hammering in my chest as if trying to break free. As we reached the entrance, Ryder signaled for us to halt.

“Tripwire,” he mouthed, pointing at the thin line stretched across the doorway. I nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. One wrong move, and we’d be blown to bits.

“Tank, can you disable it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Piece of cake,” Tank replied confidently, pulling a pair of wire cutters from his vest. With steady hands and expert precision, he snipped the wire, causing my muscles to relax ever so slightly.

“Good work,” I praised, clapping him on the back.

“Let’s move,” Zane urged, taking the lead as we slipped inside the warehouse.

“Keep your eyes peeled for more traps,” I warned, my senses on high alert.

“Brooks, look out!” Ryder shouted, his voice echoing through the cavernous space. I barely had time to react before a makeshift net dropped from the ceiling, narrowly missing me. I glanced at Ryder, grateful for his keen eye.

“Thanks,” I grunted, my heart pounding as adrenaline surged through my veins.

“Looks like Raptor ain’t playing around,” Zane muttered, shaking his head.

“Neither are we,” I replied with steely determination.

As we searched the warehouse, Raptor would not make this easy for us. But for every obstacle we faced—tripwires, snipers, even a pit filled with broken glass—we overcame them, using our skills and resources to their fullest extent.

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