Page 38 of Seized By Solo

There’s a big guy at the door dressed in a black monkey suit, and I am ready to force my fist into his face. We dismount our bikes, and I reach behind my back, checking my gun is still tucked safely into the waistband of my jeans.

“You have no business here,” the big guy grunts, stepping forward.

I waste no time and don’t slow my steps as I march to the cunt and hit him in the throat with one fluid motion. Without breaking stride, I step past him, hearing the guys chuckle behind me.

“Stay down, bitch,” I hear Kink laugh.

My fists are clenched at my sides as we enter the house. Reaching back, I pull my gun free and step further into the property. Voices ring out, so does laughter. Also the sound of people cooking in the kitchen sounds around the house.

A young girl dressed in chef whites steps out. She gasps, almost dropping the tray in her hands.

“Where is everyone?” I snarl at her.

Her gaze drops to my gun, her face going ghost white.

“In the dining hall.” She quakes.

I move forward, and I hear Woody telling the young girl to get the fuck out before shit goes down.

With my brothers at my back, we step into a grand room with floor to ceiling windows and a large dining table that has peoplesitting around it. There, at the head of the table, is the cunt himself.

Adrian Dyer.

His men notice us and push to their feet, but Dyer sits there with a calm demeanour, smirking at us.

“Welcome. I would say to my home, but this is not home. This is subpar to what I am used to, but it will do,” the arrogant prick says.

“Where is she?” I growl, my gun raised and pointed at this fucker.

“She is safe. My wife is looking after her in another room.”

“Bring her to me. Or I will start fucking shooting. You fucked with the wrong club, Dyer.”

He laughs, actually fucking laughs. He gets to his feet, strolling around the table, his men watching us, but I know my brothers are watching right back. Anyone makes a wrong move, bullets will fly.

He buttons up his suit jacket and steps closer to me.

“Tell me this, biker. What does this little girl mean to you, hmm?”

“She is mine. So is her mother and brother. Now bring her to me, and the cunt who took her. Only his blood needs to be spilled.” My anger is still at an all-time high and I am waiting for the chance to let it explode.

“Bring him in,” he calls out to no one in particular.

Seconds later, Alan is led into the room by another suit-wearing prick.

“You wanted to see me, boss?” He looks from Adrian to me, the colour draining from his face.

Yeah, fucker, I am here for you. Not even your boss will save you.

“Do you know this man?” Dyer points to me but keeps his eyes on Alan.

“Nah, boss. Never seen him before.” Alan shrugs, trying to look cool but fucking failing. I smirk at how uncomfortable and fearful he is.

“He would piss his pants if you stepped forward,” Kink mutters from my left side.

“Are you sure? Because it seems that you took something of his,” Dyer’s voice is really calm, and I can see why most fear him.

Seconds pass and I can see Alan growing more and more antsy. He fidgets, stepping from foot to foot, clenching his fists at his side. All the while, his eyes dart around the room. He looks to me and I smirk at the junkie twat.

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