Page 95 of Elling & Jackie

Elling understood the point Roar wanted to make. Slag would never bend to the wishes of others. Something he one-hundred percent agreed on.

"You're not in a position to—"

A loud rumbling came from the interstate as the second band of riders took the off-ramp and rode straight toward the group, pinning them to the side of the road. Elling caught Roar's glance, and he looked harder at the new arrivals.

They wore Brikken Motorcycle Club colors.

Fuck. Today couldn't have gone worse.

Elling reached behind him and wrapped his fingers around the pistol tucked under his belt. Sending a silent message to Viktor, he noted the communication going through the Slag members to stay on guard and be ready.

Jett Stanton rode up to the front and got off his motorcycle. Taking off his sunglasses, Jett left his gloves on. Having only been around the man a few times when dealing with Brikken, he suspected the rumors about the oldest Stanton son having a crippled right hand from a prison injury was true.

"You're all in Brikken territory." Jett stopped in front of them. "Unless you'd like your route to stop here, I'd suggest getting back on the interstate and heading home."

Roar remained quiet. Elling studied Jacqueline's oldest brother. There were similarities. They both had dark hair, dark eyes, and a confidence that backed up anything out of their mouth. On Jacqueline, it was sexier than hell. On Jett, he meant business.

"Brikken boundaries don't start until Vader." Bull's gaze narrowed.

"Look again." Jett lifted his chin. "This is Vader. Take your bikes and leave."

"Not until we get what we came for," said Bull.

"Bantorus can go first. You have sixty seconds to head out, or we open fire." Jett made no move to go for a weapon.

Knowing the threat would be backed up by the other Brikken members, Elling stood beside Roar and prepared for all hell to break loose.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood, fully aware that Slag hadn't been asked to leave. Either Brikken would separate the two clubs, or Jett Stanton had plans for Slag Motorcycle Club

Whether it was their time to make threats toward them or believed like Jacqueline had, that Slag was responsible for the Feds raiding Brikken, it was anyone's guess.

He only knew, he wouldn't go down without a fight.

Bull turned away and ordered his men to ride out. The loud murmurs followed by a chorus of motorcycle engines starting meant the Slag members couldn't talk and prepare themselves for what was to come from Brikken.

When the riders were on the interstate, Jett pointed at Elling. "You...you're coming with us. The rest of Slag can go on your way."

Elling never reacted to the summons. Deep down, he'd expected it.

If not now, then later.

The stop wasn't business. It was personal.

Roar answered immediately. "No."

"It doesn't matter to us who gets killed today. Either way, Halvorsen will go with us," said Jett.

"I'll go," said Elling, protecting his club.

"He's not going alone." Roar looked around at the mix of members from Slag and Brikken.

Marcus shifted, standing behind Elling. Moments later, a slight pressure pushed against his lower back as his MC brother slipped another pistol underneath Elling's belt. He stared straight ahead, giving nothing away.

"Suit yourself. Bring four other riders. The rest of you can leave." Jett walked a few paces away, giving Roar time to pick a crew to go with Elling.

He'd prefer they all left. What he had to do was necessary, and he might not come out of it alive, but he could protect the others by going alone. Brikken had no beef with Slag. Only him.

"Marcus, Rune, Viktor. You'll go with us. Brage will lead the others on." Roar looked at Peer. Make damn sure everyone and everything makes it to Seattle."

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