Page 2 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Biker

“I’m alleging that they work for Jefferson Cross, but I have no proof he’s involved.”

“They shot at you, and you want proof?”

I shrug. “I’m a lawyer.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

Chapter 2

Wylie

Iturn in the seat to catch another look at the vehicles in pursuit. A black pickup is pulling passed the car. “Goose it, sweetheart. Their aim will be better if they’re shooting sideways through the passenger window rather than hanging out of it trying to get a bead on us.” I’m thrown against the seat as the danger behind the wheel stomps on the gas pedal.

Then my phone rings. The name on the screen is “Tolk” because of course it fucking is. “You’re not answering texts, but you’ll pick up a voice call. Are you okay?” my brother asks.

“I’m in the middle of being kidnapped.” Then I wait for what I know is coming.

The road captain of the Lost Souls Motorcycle Club barks out a laugh. “Seriously, Wylie. Did you drop off the package yet?”

I wait.

“Brother?”

I talk fast because I don’t want him reacting like this is related to the other trouble the club is having. “I was securing the load and a woman jumped into the driver’s seat and took off with me in the back.” The load was an engine for a 1970 Honda CB750, which weighs about two hundred pounds. The fucker had shifted in transit on the way to its new owner. If I hadn’t lostto my club brother JD’s straight flush, I never would have agreed to deliver the thing in a cage, but a bet was a bet.

“Well, introduce her to Harry and get back on the road.”

“I tried that. She wasn’t convinced.”

“A .357 Magnum didn’t convince her?”

“I only pointed it at her. The guys chasing us are actually pulling the trigger, so she figures they’re the bigger threat.”

A stillness replaces Tolk’s chuckles. “Where are you?”

“About fifteen miles south of Minot.”

“Ten,” my curly-haired problem corrects.

“Are you sure you aren’t the target? I think Mason is in the area. Do you need an extraction?”

I think about it for a moment. I’m safe. I’ve always been safe. The sweetheart pain-in-my-ass in the front seat was never any real threat. Hell, even her driving has been exemplary for rocketing down the road in an old vehicle with bad suspension while being shot at. Butsheis in a load of trouble. She’s doing okay for herself so far, but she picked the right guy to kidnap. “I’m fine. I kind of want to see how this plays out.”

“So, she’s hot. Where can we meet you?” Tolk asks.

“Hey, kidnapper, where are you taking me?”

“Minot City Municipal Courthouse,” she snaps as she jerks the wheel, and the car trying to pass her veers onto the shoulder and sprays a cloud of gravel and dust.

Tolk has bat ears. “That’s convenient. She’s delivering herself to be arrested.” His voice gets muffled for a second when he covers the phone to speak to somebody else. “I’ll have Mason meet you there, Wylie.”

That would be an interesting introduction. Had this situation gone down any other way than my ass being fired upon, the boys and I would be inviting her back to the clubhouse for an explanation once we parked. But she pulled me into her trouble accidentally. “Hey, kidnapper, what’s your name?”

“Kat. Katrina Strong. How about you?”

“It’s Kyle Wylie. Call me Wylie.” Not even my mom calls me Kyle anymore.

“Wylie, are you done gabbing with your BFF yet?” Tolk asks.

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