Page 24 of Jolt's Vengeance

Ghost or not, I'm not letting Aggie slip away that easily.

I sprint out to the parking lot, the cooling night air a contrast to the heated air inside.

The familiar sight of our bikes lined up like soldiers, ready for battle.

My Harley stands proud among them, its sleek black paint job gleaming under the harsh lot lights.

Damon's voice booms across the lot, and in an instant, we're all in motion. "Let's get the fuck outta here!"

I swing my leg over my bike, feeling the comforting rumble as I kick it to life.

The roar of multiple engines fills the air.

As one unit, we peel out of the lot, tires squealing against asphalt.

The wind whips at my face as we tear down the streets of Vegas, weaving through traffic like it’s natural to us.

My mind races faster than my bike, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Fuckin’ Kodiaks," I mutter under my breath, gripping the handlebars tighter. "They're gonna pay for this shit."

We round a corner, and suddenly, the night sky is illuminated by an angry orange glow.

The stench of smoke hits me first, followed by the devastating sight of our car wash engulfed in flames.

Turmoil swears from beside me as we screech to a halt. "Jesus Christ!"

The fire is a beast, consuming everything in its path.

The heat is intense, even from where we're parked.

I can hear the crackle and pop of burning wood, the crash of the collapsing structure.

Damon's off his bike in an instant, his face a mask of pure fury. "Fan out!" he roars, his voice barely audible over the inferno. "Find the fuckers responsible for this!"

I nod grimly, my eyes scanning the area.

The fire's reflected in Damon's eyes, making him look downright demonic.

I've never seen him this pissed, and that's saying something.

"You heard the man," I shout to the others. "Let's hunt these bastards down!"

As we spread out, I can't help but think that whoever did this just signed their own death warrant.

The club doesn’t take kindly to attacks on our shit and tonight, someone's gonna learn that lesson the hard way.

Turmoil and I stick together, our eyes scanning the chaos around us.

The heat from the blaze is getting worse, sweat already beading on my forehead.

My heart's pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

That's when I spot him—a figure darting around the back of the car wash, moving fast, maybe a hundred yards away from it.

"There!" I shout, pointing. "Back of the building!"

Turmoil's eyes narrow. "That must be the fucker who did this," he growls.

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