Page 1 of Blade's Runaway Bride
Chapter 1 - Blade
I patrol the perimeter of Pine Haven with one hand resting on the grip of my Glock. The weight of the gun against my palm is a comfort I've known since my first deployment, a reminder that I control who lives and who dies in my territory.
It's been two days since the Vultures MC's last attack, and the air still smells like gunpowder and blood to me, though that might just be memory.
The club voted unanimously. We're ending this war once and for all. No survivors. No mercy. No loose ends.
My kind of mission.
The problem is finding Charles. The snake slithered back into whatever hole he crawled out of, and until we locate him, we're just spinning our wheels. I hate waiting. I prefer action. The clean simplicity of violence over the tedium of strategy meetings and intelligence gathering.
My Harley roars beneath me as I take the curve on Route 16, the night air cool against my face. The outskirts of Pine Haven are mostly deserted at this hour. Just farmland, woods, and the occasional rundown property. The perfect place to spot anything unusual.
And that's when I see it… A flash of white in my headlight, just off the shoulder of the road.
I slow the bike, squinting into the darkness. Could be nothing. Could be a trap. In my experience, nothing innocent happens on a back road after midnight.
I kill the engine but leave the headlight on, illuminating what appears to be a heap of dirty fabric. But fabric doesn't move. And this definitely moved.
Drawing my weapon, I approach cautiously, boots crunching on the gravel. Years of training have taught me to trust nothing and no one outside the club. As I get closer, the shape takes form, and I realize it's a person wearing what looks like a filthy, torn wedding dress.
A woman.
She's huddled against the base of an oak tree, knees pulled to her chest, face hidden. Her blonde hair hangs in tangled strands around her shoulders, and the once-white dress is smeared with dirt and what might be blood.
I stop ten feet away, gun still in hand but pointed at the ground. "You alive?"
She jerks at the sound of my voice, head snapping up. Wide blue eyes lock onto mine, filled with a terror I recognize all too well. It's the look of prey that knows it's been caught.
"Stay back," she whispers, voice hoarse. She presses herself harder against the tree trunk as if trying to disappear into it.
I should leave her. Whatever mess she's in isn't my problem. The club has enough to deal with, and I'm not in the business of rescuing random women in wedding dresses. But something about the raw fear in her eyes keeps my boots planted where they stand.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I say, the words awkward on my tongue.
I rarely bother with reassurances. People either trust me or they don't, and mostly, they shouldn't.
She doesn't believe me. Smart girl.
"Are you—" she swallows hard, eyes darting to the road behind me, "—are you one of them?"
That gets my attention. "One of who?"
"The Vultures MC."
My blood turns cold. Every instinct sharpens to a razor's edge. This isn't a coincidence. Nothing involving Vultures MC in Pine Haven is a coincidence anymore.
"No," I answer, holstering my weapon slowly so she can see. "I'm not."
Some of the tension leaves her body, but not much. She's still coiled tight, ready to bolt. Her dress has a long tear up one side, revealing scratched and bleeding legs. She's been running through the woods. For how long, I can't tell.
"What's your name?" I ask, though I don't really care. What I care about is how she's connected to the Vultures MC.
She hesitates, eyes darting around like a cornered animal. "Kelly," she finally says. "Kelly Stone."
"And why are you running from Vultures MC in a wedding dress, Kelly Stone?"
Her lips tremble. "Because I was supposed to marry one today." The words come out bitter and frightened. "But I couldn't... I wouldn't..." She trails off, shaking her head.
