Page 12 of Snatched Princess

“Lara, if this is a fucking set up, I’m personally going to shoot you right between the eyes. I’m not going to listen to anything you have to say, it’s going to be one kill shot, you hear?” The one the Dark Angels calls Bull – reminds me of my father. His beard is the same length, and he has similar surly energy. My father is a little stockier than him, but for all intents and purposes they’re cut from the same MC cloth.

I ignore the lethal pounding in my heart. It's not like I want to prove myself to the Dark Angels, but I see no other choice. Snatch and I… we got something, and it’s major. I have to see it through.

I speak with confidence, throwing my blonde locks up into a ponytail, preparing for battle. “I’m risking it big time here; don’t think I don’t get that. I’m legit and I’m the one who knows exactly where the balance of the stash is. I set it up for us. The other boys don’t know shit. I’m the brains over there. You either trust me or you don’t,” I punch back, tilting my head boldly at him. Palpable tension envelops the warehouse, I can’t forget I’m in enemy territory in some ways. I catch a glimpse of Snatch. He’s stroking his clean-shaven chin, but his eyes are warm towards me. He nods in appreciation, like he trusts me.

Simone and I lock eyes for the first time since the kidnapping. She’s playing a good game with her poker face, so I have no clue how she feels. I don’t think she wants to be reminded of Savage Outlaws. There’s a reason they’ve got that name. A burst of guilt runs through me. If my father didn’t put a barricade between us, I would have helped her.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and not in a good way. This is an executive move on my part. I flip my hair over my shoulder again in irritation as Bull and I stare each other down. If I’ve gotta lead a club, then I have to get used to pushback. No time like the present to get acquainted with club challenges.

Slash cockily swaggers over to me. “You got back routes? We can’t roll in the same way we got the stash back.” His eyes cut to Snatch, and I position myself in front of him. Not that Snatch needs coverage, but if he throws a punch at Slash it will distract from the mission.

“I got ‘em. Follow me in. Keep in single file formation, it’s easier,” I direct. It’s shaky. They don’t trust me, and I can’t blame them.

“As long as you get us those drugs back sweetheart,” Bull claims in a gruff tone.

“Okay, let’s go.” I lead out into the violent, violet sky. It’s clear, and still perfect for a cocaine heist. I’m riding on Snatch’s bike, and nobody knows what we’ve done, but our pinky fingers touch. He’s like a torch to my fire and it’s hard to contain all my feelings.

“You ready? You sure you got this?” He asks in hesitation.

Irritated, I side eye him. “Yeah, I do, what you too? You don’t trust me?” I felt the accusatory eyes of the club on me, kicking up my nerves.

“I do. 100%, but shit happens. Stay close to me so I can cover you,” he says protectively.

“Heir to the throne remember? I’m the one running the stash house. It will be fine. Do you need nappies?” I lick my tongue out at him as we walk to his bike.

“Babe,” he snorts as I break the icy tension. I’m freaking out on the inside and convincing myself I don’t feel shaky inside.

We ride out with the rumble of hogs in procession. It’s a double cross, but business is a bitch. I slip my hands around Snatch and deep into his pockets while I shiver. The cold tooth of the wind cuts over my face and I wish we could turn right around and go back to having sex in the storeroom. It’s quiet and the suburbs are dead except for the amber lights from people’s houses as they sit in comfort watching their bullshit tv shows. As we approach the warehouse, I tap Snatch like we planned. The engines of all bikes cut a half mile away from the venue. I made sure the warehouse was never lit up. No lights. Nothing. It was a place to remain hidden in plain sight. Slash rode the van and I jumped in with Snatch.

“Okay, roll up slow. It’s going to look dead, but I can tell you right now, two are on guard,” I hissed to them. Snatch has loaned me a gun, and it’s heavy and strange in my fingers. It’s not my weapon.

“Last time I had two for the take down as well. She’s not lying,” Snatch confirmed as we both jumped inside.

“Uh-huh, let’s get the coke and get this shit done and over,” Slash’s eyes are honed in on the wooden gate blocking the entry point.

“Alright. Let’s roll.” Bull, Psych, and another patch are jogging through the night. I can see their leathers as I check for sound. Nothing. Not a peep. “I can’t hear anything. We might have gotten lucky and caught ‘em out. The stash house is a few steps from the gate and all we have to do is load the last few keys in the van. Simple task, but a huge risk. The click of Snatch’s gun behind me makes me feel too real. Slash walks on the other side, here I’m nestled between two rival MC members.

Our feet crunch over the asphalt, and all I can hear is the rustle of the grass reeds on the side of the road. Sucking in an easy breath, I try not to breathe too hard as Snatch creaks the stash house door open with one hand. It’s not like he doesn’t know where it is. He’s been here before. My heart is so loud it’s banging around in my head. I can’t stop it even if I want to.

Think straight, think straight Lara. “Stash is left side, back corner,” I hiss to Snatch.

“Got it.” He’s got his gun sheltered low. He flicks on the light and a fierce roar unleashes from the right-hand side of the room as my father jumps down from the shelf he’s been sitting on.

What the fuck is he doing? He was sitting in the dark like he knew we were coming. He’s got his sawn-off rifle in his hand and Snatch is pointing the gun right at his head. He’s got clearance enough from where he’s standing to take a solid shot. Slash is on the other side with his gun cocked. Beard is staring at Snatch and it’s going to be a battle of wills.

Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot Snatch. I’m willing him in my head to keep cool. We’ve come for the drugs and now I’m faced with my father. “You wanna do it boy, this bullet has your name on it,” he says with dead calm.

Snatch snarls and my street instincts kick in, but it’s not him I have to worry about. He doesn’t have his gun raised to eye level. Slash does. Lunging in Slash’s direction to my right I nudge Slash hard with my elbow, bile rising in my throat. I watch his fingers curl around the trigger and squeeze off a shot. Slash runs over to the stash. He stumbles, his hand touching the ground to rebalance. The clean shot is promised for connection to my father’s temple, but instead it clips the top of his shoulder.

“Urgggh, son of bitch,” he wails, clutching the top of it, rolling over in pain. He crumples to his knees falling on his side. Feet, I can hear the thump of them as the door swings open and bullets whale on the warehouse. Instinctively I cover my head as my father reaches out to me.

“Pops, pops!” I cry out. Rapid fire rings around my ears. Shells drop from bullet holes piercing through the ramshackle warehouse. I crawl to him, my heart in my mouth. He’s so close, but so far at the same time.

“Bitches!” More bullets, more gunfire. More MCs from both sides, as if all the Savage Outlaws were lying in wait for the moment to emerge. Yelling and cursing is ringing around my head, and it’s hard to think straight. How? How did I miss it? My crew aren’t this smart. I can’t see where they’re coming. I don’t want to see, but a river of blood is trickling from my father’s shoulder to me. I can’t believe Snatch shot him, but what did I expect to do?

I feel an arm reach underneath me and scoop me up under my stomach. I’m yanked away from my father. I don’t struggle. There’s no point. It has to be Snatch. It’s damn sure not my Savage Outlaw brothers, that’s for sure. I’m being carried and all I can see is the hard cement while Snatch jogs. Blue and red lights flash on and off as I stare at the ground. Snatch’s breath is heavy, but he arrives at his bike in time.

I’m frigid, fucked off that Slash got that shot off as Snatch seats me on the back of the bike. The cool bite of midnight stings my face as I sit stunned and sirens whir. The thick throaty call of Dark Angels hogs keeps me alert. My helmet is shoved on unceremoniously shoved on and we’re gone from the scene. I’m holding on, but I’m fucking pissed. That bastard Slash had the guts to shoot my father. Motherfucker, he could have killed him!

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