Page 80 of Property of Spike

Spike

The roar of my bike is deafening, but it’s not enough to drown out the blood pounding in my ears.

They took her.

They took my son.

Tank’s voice still echoes in my head, rough and furious but controlled in a way that tells me just how bad this shit is.Cops came in with drawn weapons. Chuck had a warrant. Riley’s been arrested. They took Asher.

I twist the throttle harder, pushing my bike faster, barely aware of the road beneath me. Bones is right behind me, his headlight glaring in my side mirror, but I don’t slow down.

They took my fucking family.

My hands clench the handlebars so tight I’m surprised they don’t snap off. I can’t think about Riley being locked up in some cold cell, scared and alone. I can’t think about my son –my fucking son– being in Chuck’s hands.

That sick fuck probably planned this from the beginning. He couldn’t get to Riley with his bullshit threats, so he used the goddamn system to rip Asher away from us.

A growl builds in my chest, low and dangerous.

The cops might’ve had the authority to take them. But I have the power to take them back.

I cut through town recklessly, barely stopping at lights, barely acknowledging the cars that blare their horns as I weave past them. The station comes into view, a squat, ugly brick building that’s about to become a fucking warzone.

I rip into the parking lot, my tires screeching as I come to a sharp stop. Before my kickstand is even down, I’m off the bike and stalking toward the entrance. Bones is right behind me, silent, a storm brewing in his eyes.

The second I step inside, all heads turn.

Some of the officers shift uncomfortably, eyes darting toward the front desk. Others straighten, like they already know who the fuck I am, and don’t want to deal with me.

Too fucking bad.

I slam my hands down on the counter so hard the desk sergeant flinches. “Where the fuck is Riley Hayes?” I snarl.

The guy behind the desk, some pudgy officer with a coffee-stained uniform, blinks up at me like I just kicked his dog. “And you are?”

My vision goes red. “You knowdamn wellwho I am,” I growl. “Ethan ‘Spike’ Turner. President of the Iron Shadows. Therealfather of the baby you just fucking kidnapped and man of the woman you brutally took from my fucking home.”

The guy has the nerve to sit back like he’s unimpressed. “Ms. Hayes has been charged with kidnapping. The child was returned to hislegalguardian.”

Legal guardian.

Legal guardian?!

I lunge.

Bones’ hand clamps onto my shoulder, stopping me before I can rip this guy across the desk. His grip is firm, steady, the only thing keeping me from committing a felony.

“Where. Is. She?” My voice is low now, more dangerous than when I was yelling.

The officer shifts in his chair, suddenly less confident. “She’s in holding. Being processed. No visitors allowed.”

I smile. It’s not friendly. “We’ll see about that.”

The doors behind me burst open, and in walks thelastperson I need to see right now.

Chuck.

And he’s holding my son.

---