Page 64 of Ride or Dies

“Sweeper’ll be pissed if something happens to Evie because we stayed here and let the cops get ahold of us,” I said.

“He should be okay until the paramedics get here,” Tucker said.

“I’m assuming Clayton’s not stupid enough to take Evie back to his place,” I said. “Which means we’re back to square one on not knowing where he is.”

“Let’s head over to Rikki’s,” Levi said. “See if she’s heard from him, or if there’s anything else about the bastard that she forgot to tell us.”

“Maybe you should’ve put a tracker on Evie instead of Rikki,” I said to Tucker as he checked Sweeper one last time before we headed toward our bikes.

“Believe me,” Tucker said grimly, “I plan on doing that as soon as we get her back.”

“Where does Rikki live again?” Levi asked.

As Tucker pulled out his phone to get the information, an alert went off. He smiled, and I knew something had finally turned in our favor.

“I ran a program that’s been digging into Clayton Pierce,” he said with a grin. “I won’t bore you with the details, but it just found something that had to do with the key words I included in the search.”

“And?” I asked.

Tucker’s smile vanished. “Son of a bitch!”

“What is it?” Levi demanded. “We’ve gotta go, so spit it out.”

“I know where Clayton is,” Tucker said. “The Black Cobras’ clubhouse.”

“Wait? What?” I stared at him.

“Harley Quinn is Clayton’s uncle.”

I could see the whole fucking picture now. It was time to call in reinforcements.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Evie

Icrossed one leg over the other and tried to pretend that my stomach wasn’t twisting itself into all kinds of knots. Clayton paced the small space, which would’ve made me more nervous if he still had that gun in his hand, but right now it was sitting on the edge of Harley’s desk.

Harley didn’t do much of anything. He just sat like a lump in that chair, hands folded on his stomach, eyes moving over me in a way I really didn’t like. He hadn’t even said anything for the last few minutes. Just watched me.

I was determined not to do anything worth watching, but sitting still hadn’t ever been something I was much good at. I wanted to make a grab for the gun, use it to get myself out of here. Maybe shoot Clayton once to show him how it felt.

The thought of Sweeper lying on my driveway drove away my other thoughts. I didn’t see where he was hit, but I knew it had to be bad for him to just stay down and not try to come after me. I kept telling myself that he was going to be okay, that one of the neighbors had called the cops and someone had found Sweeper right after I left.

Except gunshots around Bedford didn’t always mean something was wrong.

“You know, most women talk too much for me, but you’re quiet.”

Harley licked his lips, reminding me of that giant slug creature from Star Wars, the one who put Leia in that ridiculous gold bikini.

“Not when she’s being fucked,” Clayton said with a laugh. “She makes all sorts of noises then.”

I flushed, but embarrassment was only a sliver of what coursed through me now. This wasn’t just anger about being kidnapped, or because Sweeper had been shot. No, this was pure rage at the violation these two men had put together. Not just of me, but of the brothers too. They might not have the sort of public profile I did, but they had family and friends. People in Bedford knew them. Knew their family.

“Hope you two got your fill of me in that video,” I said. “Because it’s the closest you’ll ever get. And when the Riders are done with you, if you’re not dead, you’ll be spending your prison time making all sorts of noises.”

“Listen here, you little bitch—” Clayton took a step toward me, his hand up and ready to backhand me.

Someone came crashing through the door, wide-eyed and a hell of a lot more panicked than I’d ever thought a biker could look.

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