Page 104 of Claimed By the Biker Brothers

I’m about to move in and shake their hands, but the sound of footsteps causes the three of us to turn toward the door. Ellie walks in with a dark look on her face and a gun pointed our way. A Glock. The kind they issue law enforcement.

“Don’t move,” Ellie says, her voice low and cold.

“Ellie? What the fuck are you doing?” Knox asks.

We slowly inch farther apart from one another. We’ve been in the crossfire before, so we never stick closer together when we’re threatened. She can’t hit all three of us at once. My stomach churns as new implications arise, as I measure this young woman from head to toe and try to figure out if she’s a foe or simply misguided.

“I’m a Federal agent,” she says. “DEA.”

“Credentials,” I reply dryly.

Ellie squints her brown eyes at me, but she knows I’m not playing. She obliges. With one hand still holding the gun, she takes out a badge from her jacket pocket. “I’ve been watching you fellas for over a year now.”

“We trusted you.”

“That was the point. It means I did my job right,” Ellie replies. “Nothing personal. I hope you understand. I was actually growing quite fond of you.”

“So you’re one of Spalding’s crooked agents?” Knox asks, his brow furrowed.

“Crooked?”

“You’ve been casing us. Tell it like it is. You’ve been watching us, building your operation with Marlo Hughes and Calvin Russo,” he says.

Ellie shakes her head. “You’ve got it wrong. And what you’re storing in this room is insanely illegal I’m guessing. So you’re all under arrest. I have to take you in for questioning.”

“Is it you and Spalding or just you? Or is Spalding calling all the shots and you yip at his heels like a lap dog?” I ask, my right hand slowly, ever so slowly dropping while the tension between us rises. My heart thuds furiously while my brain analyzes our options.

There’s no way we’re getting arrested, not when Robyn is in danger, not when we don’t even know, nor can we correctly ascertain, where Ellie’s allegiance lies. Either way, Ellie really is the last thing we need to deal with right now.

“We’ll talk about this once I have you in custody,” she says.

With lightning speed, I pull out my gun and point it at her. “Fucking hell, Ellie. Were you involved? They took Robyn.”

She stills, looking rather confused. “What?”

“Calvin and Marlo. They took her. Did you have anything to do with that?” I ask again, my blood simmering with uncontrollable rage.

“We were supposed to meet, but she never—”

POP.

I discharge my weapon close enough to Ellie to startle and distract her.

“Move!” I shout.

A split second later, we bolt out the door with our weapons and ammo, sweating bullets as we reach the clubhouse exit.

Ellie fires at us.

POP. POP. POP.

She misses, maybe on purpose.

“Stop!” she shouts.

But we’re not stopping anytime soon.

Once we’re out, we spring for a clean escape. Our pickup truck is waiting, keys still in the ignition. We dump the bags in the truck bed, then jump in. By the time Ellie catches up, our wheels are spinning like crazy, raising dust and dirt as we skid out onto the road.

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