Page 30 of Hell on Wheels

“I think that’s obvious, but it doesn’t matter. Finding Molly has to be the priority.”

Flint’s eyes turned cold, his gaze a blustery blue that chilled me to the bone. “I’ll find out what he knows. All of it.”

“Well, fuck,” Grim growled.

Patriot agreed. “I’m coming with you. Got no tolerance for this shit.”

“Something else needs to be handled first,” Grim announced.

Flint frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that, Grim.”

He ticked his chin at Flint. “Can’t say I blame you. You ever thought seriously about patching into the club? We could use another brother who’s as fearless as you are, Shepherd.”

That wasn’t what I thought he would say.

The Royal Bastards President’s presence radiated power, ruthless brutality, and something almost sinister. He was the most intimidating person I’d ever met, even more so than Angel or Salazar Guerrero, but I wasn’t afraid of him.

A protective vibe hovered around all the guys in this motorcycle club. They treated their women with a firm but gentle hand, and as I watched the interaction of the others, I hoped they could stop the monsters who took Molly. Every effort to recover her before now had failed.

Maybe the Royal Bastards were the reckoning I needed.

Accepting that meant trusting my sister’s life with an outlaw motorcycle club and a scarred Marine Veteran I had only known for two days. Torin was going to be pissed when he found out.

Flint lifted his chin, a mischievous glint in those dark blue eyes. “Well, when you put it like that, sure.”

“There’s just one thing left then,” Grim added, flashing a wicked grin.

“And that is?”

“The Devil’s Ride.”

Chapter 9

“We head out in an hour. Be ready to ride,” Grim rumbled as he spun on his heel, leaving the room as Rael and Mammoth followed.

Patriot cleared his throat. “Didn’t want to bring this up until you were awake, Flint.”

---