Page 58 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

Itell myself that I won’t lose my cool.

But my hands grip my bike’s handlebars, throttle the gas, and my Harley’s engine roars in response.

Smoke billows up into the sky, dark and thick. The hard burnt stench hits my nostrils before I even see the flames.

My stomach churns with a mix of anger and dread as I push the bike harder, the crackle of fire eating away at months of hard work.

Don’t lose your cool.

As I ride over the final hill, the full extent of the damage comes into view. The marijuana fields, our lifeline, all our work and main income, are ablaze. Flames dance wildly, consuming the tall, green plants.

I grind my teeth together.

Don’t lose your shit.

I pull to a stop, kicking the stand down with more force than necessary, and dismount, my boots hitting the scorched earth with a dull thud. The heat is intense, waves of it rolling over me, but it's the sight that truly burns.

Acres of plants, fucking turned to black soot and ash. The smoke rises in dark plumes, blotting out the sun. This was nomere accident. It was a direct attack against me and my men. Someone set out to piss me off, and they’ve done a damn good job of it.

"Goddamn it," I mutter under my breath, my fists clenching at my sides.

A movement catches my eye, and I turn to see Tank and a few of the others riding down the hill behind me, their expressions mirroring the fury and shock I feel. They dismount quickly, rushing over to where I stand, their eyes fixed on the devastation before us.

"Son of a bitch," Tank growls, his face twisted in anger. "What the hell happened?"

“What the hell do you think fucking happened, Tank?” I stare at the flames. “Where’s Vance?”

“Headed back this way.”

“Tell him to come here.” I point to the earth in front of me. “With her.”

“You think Izzy did this?” he asks. He’s not ready to accept the reality of the situation we are in because of her. I want to punch him right in that massive square head of his. He still wants to stand by and protect her after everything.

Well, someone’s pissed me right the fuck off, and Izzy is my number one suspect.

“We need to contain this before we lose any more crops.” I ignore his question, keeping my voice steady despite the rage boiling inside of me.

“Hawk, come on,” he starts, grabbing my shoulder. “You don’t actually think she did this?” He gestures to the fire and burnt field. I shove his hand away.

“We don’t have time to think. Get out there before we lose our whole god damn farm.”

Tank studies me for a long moment then back aways, barking orders to the others. It’s going to be one hell of a long night. They move quickly, a well-oiled machine despite the chaos.

I turn my attention back to the fire, my jaw clenched so tight it hurts as I try to calculate how much money we’re about to lose this quarter. If Izzy is behind this, if she’s been playing us all along, she’s about to find out just how unforgiving the Hellfire Riders can be.

I sit down on an old tree stump at the top of the hill, watching as my men fight to save what’s left.

The guys haul out hoses from the nearby shed, directing powerful streams at the advancing flames. Shovels and buckets are passed around, everyone working in a frantic but organized effort to beat back the fire.

Sweat pours down their faces, the heat mingling with the urgency of their movements.

I’m supposed to be two steps ahead, the first one in line to make a move. That’s how I got to the position of president. That’s why I’m in charge, but this fucking woman shows up and breaks my focus.

I reach into my vest and pull out a cigarette, absentmindedly rolling it between my lips. I need a plan. Something to put me back in charge. Izzy was a problem the first time she wandered into our clubhouse. I knew that much, but to think she’d actually be capable of a hit like this. The pieces of the last few days start clicking together in a way that makes my blood run cold.

I don’t want to believe it.

In fact, I struggle to.

---