Page 70 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

As Logan disappears into the night, I turn to Tank, my heart still pounding but with a mix of relief and admiration.

There’s no way I’ll be keeping my job after this. But I also don’t care.

“Are you okay?” Tank checks in, his voice softer now. I nod, looking up at him, realizing all the fear and panic I felt earlier has completely vanished. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, tilting his head as he takes me in.

“Good, then I can do this.”

With one motion, he lifts me up, tossing me over his shoulder.

“Hey, Tank! What are you doing?” I almost shriek, but my words are muffled as he covers my mouth with a rough hand.

“Getting us the hell outta here. This is the last time I’ll get this close to the police headquarters.” He darts down the sidewalk toward his bike parked at the road. “I’d tell you how much trouble you’re in, Izzy, but you’ve heard that speech too many times.”

Tank throws me on the back of his bike, my stomach pressed against him and the vibration of the bike as he starts the engine.

“I’m going to start putting a leash on you, girl,” he mutters as he kicks the gas.

I glance over my shoulder as we peel away.

Logan stands with his back to the entrance, his shoulders slumped and head down. He cradles his hand against his chest, a look of pain and defeat on his face.

Reynolds steps out of the headquarters then, he sees Logan then looks up to me.

Logan’s face is an ugly mask of hatred, but it’s the expression on Reynolds's face that fills me with dread.

There’s no emotion there, just a cold, calculating stare that seems to bore into the back of my skull even as we disappear in the darkness.

16

IZZY

As the night deepens, we ride away from the chaos and into the relative calm of the forest. The city falls away, replaced by the redwoods.

This is starting to feel more like my home than the concrete buildings. Now I feel safe. My arms tighten around Tank’s core, and I rest my head against his back, letting his engine drown out all the sound. He takes my hands into one of his, holding firmly.

“You really scared us, you know that?” he says as he pulls off onto a single lane, dirt road.

“I only want to help.”

“Help,” he mutters under his breath with a short laugh. “Girl, you are going to drive me insane.”

Tank stops the bike outside a weather ranch with a sturdy door and only a few windows. Several red lights blink on the security camera lining the front entrance. He cuts the engine and doesn’t even let me put my feet on the ground as his hands scoop around my waist.

“Hey!” I shriek. He rips the folder from my hand, not answering me. “I need that!”

“I’m sure you do.”

Once again, I’m over his shoulder, hanging like a doll as he walks toward the front door then kicks the door open. The house is dimly lit with a few warm bulbs, but enough for me to make out Vance sitting at a folding card table with his boots kicked up on it. In front of him are several television monitors feeding back the live security camera footage.

“Well, look who it is,” he says, standing up from the chair.

I lift my head taking in the environment. I’ve never seen it before, not even in the file Laina made on them.

It’s a small living area with a worn couch and a couple of chairs, a kitchenette with basic amenities, and a narrow hallway.

Down the hall, Tank carries me directly to the bedroom, where I’m dropped onto a bed. I bounce with the impact on the spring mattress. He and Vance both hover in the doorway, looking down at me. Arms folded. Tattoos exposed and both look more dangerous than ever.

“What the hell, you guys?” I ask. “Where are we?”

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