Page 110 of Throttle

This GPS is taking me into the damn woods. Sure, I live secluded, Venom and Angel live secluded, but because my gut is cursing the shit out of me right now, I am not buying this.

At the destination, a wave of panic, unlike anything I've experienced, washes over me and my heart sinks. I track the path of blood, which leads me to a lifeless body on the ground.

I didn't need to guess or read our club's name on his leather. I knew it was Brass.

I gently rotate him onto his back. “Holy fuck, man.” My stomach twists at the sight of him. “Brother, can you hear me?”

His fingers twitch. Good. He’s alive, but not for much longer.

His eyes and cheeks are swollen. As I raise his shirt, his abdomen has purple marks and gashes with oozing blood.

“Where is she, Brass?” I’m loud but only out of panic.

He tries to talk, but winces in pain.

With a pat on his shoulder, I call for an ambulance. “Help is coming. Just hang on, brother.”

I circle the perimeter, reaching for my piece, but realizing I left it back at the club.

Stupid.

Inside the house, I take slow caution, but desperation hits me. “Tequila!” My boot collides with something hard and immobile. Underneath, I’m standing in a pool of blood. Was this Caleb?

I examine his pulse, only to discover a bullet hole between his eyes. “Fuck!” I panic again. “Tequila!” It was stupid shouting her name and not being armed, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to find her, and I needed to find her now.

My body trembles with anger and my heart races uncontrollably.

I check every room, every space in the house before I fly out and examine the surrounding area. By a bush is her broken phone.

“Shit!” I drop to my knees, punching the ground.

I should have been here. I shouldn’t have allowed her to go without me.

The sound of motorcycles thunder close. Let them come. I'll make them talk, no matter what it takes.

A touch on my shoulder jolts me out of my daze, causing me to spin around, ready to defend myself. To my surprise, Tank is there, offering a helping hand.

Not my enemies, but my brothers.

“We’ll find her, man.” He reassures me as I stare at the sound of sirens growing in the distance. “We’ll get her back.”

“I’m going to kill every single one of them,” I threaten.

“I know.”

Chain, Hush, Charger, and Bullet climb off their rides. Charger drops to examine an almost lifeless Brass.

“How did you guys find me?” I ask with gratitude.

“Bullet tracked your phone. Prez said fuck the meeting and we came straight here. Just in case and well… shit.”

“Thanks, brother.”

Can't waste time. I’m not needed. Brass is being hauled into an ambulance. I saw who I believed was Caleb being carried off in a body bag. He wasn’t so lucky. If you call Brass barely breathing, luck.

The damn feds were asking questions—questions we lack answers to. Chain’s doing a lot of head nodding, but no words.

I jog to my Harley, but the cop is on my ass. “Hey you! Nobody leaves until I get everyone’s statements.” He points his stupid pen in my direction.

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