Page 51 of Hell Bent

Twenty minutes later, Vicious and Razor entered the clubhouse with Lottie in tow. Vicious was astonished when he saw every brother there. Few made eye contact with him as they prepared to ride out to find Sway for him. One word came to mind:electric. That was how the atmosphere felt.

He made eye contact with Teller as the man crossed the room, heading toward him. “Vicious, how are you doing, brother?”

“It’s my woman, Teller. My woman!”

“We’ll get her back. You just need to keep your head.” Teller had no idea how Vicious was standing in the clubhouse. He could only imagine where the brother’s head was at. Before Teller could continue, Blackjack walked up, cutting into the conversation.

“Sherlock has a clear picture of a van that appeared to have been following your girl,” Blackjack told him.

“Thanks.”

Vicious looked for Razor so the brother could take care of Lottie, but Razor had disappeared. “Blackjack, this is Lottie. Is there somewhere she can hang out so she’ll be out of the way?”

“Hey, Sway is my girl, and I’m not being put anywhere while she’s missing,” Lottie argued as Blackjack gripped her elbow and started to tug her forward.

“Let go of me, pretty boy. No Hollywood model is going to drag me anywhere.” Digging her platform Converse into the floor, the rubber soles kept the guy from being able to drag her any farther.

“Blackjack, I’ll handle this one.” Lottie closed her eyes at hearing Razor’s deep voice. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot daggers at the man.

“Lottie, take a walk with me. Please.”

Tears filled her eyes. She was scared for her friend and pissed that Vicious, Razor, and every other guy in the damn room looked at her like she couldn’t help. “Razor, I want to help.”

He saw the anger and the worry in her beautiful eyes. If he were a smart man, he’d let Blackjack deal with her, but the idea of another brother handling Lottie brought his hackles up. It wasn’t a reaction he liked, and he’d take a closer look at his feelings once they found Sway. For now, he’d tuck Lottie away where she wouldn’t be a distraction. “You’ll just be in the way and slow us down.”

On a huff, she stormed off, heading anywhere but where she was at that precise moment. Razor could follow her or not, Lottie didn’t give a rat’s ass. Suddenly, her arm was grabbed, spinning her around. “Listen to me, little girl. You might be able to pout and get your way with Dawson Franks, but not with me. When I tell you to do something, you’ll do it. You’re in my house, and there are rules that youwillfollow. Do you understand me?” When she remained tight-lipped, Razor got in her face. “Lottie!”

“I fucking hear you.”

“Good. Now, let’s go.” Razor took her toward the back hall, where his room was. He didn’t miss the snickering that some of the brothers were letting loose. When he managed to get a less than agreeable Lottie down the hall, he unlocked the door and led her inside. “All I’m asking is for you to stay in here.”

Lottie looked around at the dark walls lined with book-filled shelves and the leather cigar chairs flanked by a single iron bed. The dark grey comforter looked warm and inviting. It wasn’t what she expected inside an outlaw motorcycle clubhouse. “Whose room is this?”

“Mine. No one will bother you in here.”

“Please, don’t forget I’m in here, Razor.”

“There’s no way I could forget you, Lottie.” One more look at the raven-haired beauty and Razor stepped out, closing the door behind him.Trouble.

Standing behind Sherlock, Vicious watched the feed. His heart thundered in his chest as they used the city’s camera feed to follow Sway’s movements through the area. The car stayed behind Sway until a block from the repair shop, then they lost sight of the vehicle as Sway’s truck turned into the driveway and parked. Vicious saw the three individuals heading up the alley. His hands clenched into fists, wanting to punch something.

Then he saw Sway struggling with two hooded figures while the third watched. They hauled her back up the drive. He and the others watched as Sway fought to getfree. She slapped one of the assailants before the third figure shoved a gun in her mouth. Vicious swallowed hard, wanting to turn his head, but he forced himself to watch as Sway seemed to be talking to the gunman.

She began struggling again as they half carried her, half dragged her down the alley. He could see the heels of her boots trying to dig into the icy ground. They watched as she appeared to be screaming for help, then she was hit over the head with the gun.

Vicious grabbed the back of a chair to stay upright as he watched Sway crumple against the building. Then, he caught a reflection of the gunman in the window of the adjacent building. “Sherlock, go back a frame and freeze it. Can you enhance that reflection?”

Sherlock’s fingers floated across the keyboard of his computer, and like magic, the image came into view. Vicious knew the man he was staring at, as did most of the brothers. “That’s Jerome Michel. He’s a hangaround for that support club. What’s their fucking name?” Vicious snapped his fingers, hoping someone could give him the damn name. When no one said anything, he threw the chair he’d been holding onto.

The chair crashed into a pair of barstools, sending everything tumbling to the ground. Beer bottles toppled over, spilling liquid across the bar top and floor below. A tumbler hit the floor, splintering into jagged shards of glass. The outburst sent a few of the club girls who were standing around diving behind the bar to stay out of the line of fire.

“Dead-Eye Warriors,” Joker shouted at Vicious as he grabbed the chair the brother was about to send sailingacross the room. No one ever said Vicious didn’t have a temper. The man just kept it hidden.

“Let’s get their fucking President on the line. I want Jerome Michel’s fucking head,” Teller ordered.

Taking hold of Vicious, Teller looked him in the eye. “Let’s gather the information we need from them, and we’ll go from there.”

“Teller.”

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