Butterflies swirled in my belly at hearing Link tell my brother how much I meant to him, but that didn’t stop me from snapping at him as soon as he hung up. “Why did Huntley call? What’s going on? What are you going to take care of to keep me safe?”
Link laced his fingers through mine and started to tug me in the direction of the clubhouse. “Your brother got word that there’s a contract out on you.”
“A contract?” My brow wrinkled in confusion, and then my lips formed a perfect O as I gasped in shock when I realized what he meant. “Holy crap! There’s a hitman after me?”
“Yeah, that’s why we need to get you back to the safety of the clubhouse. You’re too exposed out here,” he growled as his gaze scanned our surroundings.
We were moving quickly, my shorter legs moving double-time to keep up with Link’s longer stride. Scout was a little behind us and to my left with his gun still clenched in his fist. Link had his too, and I wanted to kick myself for not grabbing the pistol I’d been showing off with before we’d left the shooting range. I would’ve felt a little less vulnerable if I had a gun of my own. Not that I had any doubts about Link’s ability to protect me—something he demonstrated when there was the unmistakable cracking sound of a rifle shot off in the distance a split-second before pieces of bark from the tree next to me went flying. Link tackled me to the ground and covered me with his body, rolling us into the tree line for better coverage. Several more shots were fired before everything went silent.
Link cradled my head in his palms and rasped, “Please, fuck. Tell me you weren’t hit, angel.”
“No bullet holes here,” I weakly joked.
“You good, Scout?” he asked, turning his head to look to the left.
“Yeah, man. Get her back to the clubhouse,” Scout suggested. “Just sent our emergency code text out so the rest of the guys know shit went sideways. I’d already fired off a quick message to Dax to let him know what Huntley said about the hit out on pinkie. It should’ve been enough of a heads-up that they’ll be ready to meet me.”
“Meet you? Where are you going?” I hissed.
“I’m gonna start to track the shooter down. We can’t let him get too much of a head start or else we’ll never find him until he tries again,” Scout explained.
I thought about how devastated Cat would be if anything happened to him and felt tears well up in my eyes. “Please be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me, pinkie. The motherfucker who thought he could take out Link’s old lady is the only one in danger today. He can’t be too smart or else he would’ve known that fucking with the Silver Saints would earn him a death sentence,” Scout reassured me with a grin.
Link slowly helped me to my feet but urged me to stay in a crouch. When additional bullets didn’t fly our way, I heaved a deep sigh of relief. The lack of additional shots fired must’ve been enough for Scout because he gave us a little wave and slowly moved in the direction where I assumed the shooter had been. “C’mon,” Link urged, keeping his arm around my shoulders and his body mostly covering mine while we did an awkward shuffle through the woods. I almost tripped a few times, but Link helped me regain my balance before I hit the ground. It would’ve been a lot easier for me to move without him crowding me so much, but I didn’t complain. I knew he was doing it to protect me, so I wasn’t going to be a brat about it. Not when he’d literally put his body between mine and a hired killer’s bullets.
When we made it back to the clubhouse, my heart felt as though it was going to burst through my chest. It wasn’t the exertion that had my pulse through the roof, though. It was fear of what could’ve happened if Link’s reflexes hadn’t been so fast. “The next time someone calls you an old man, I’m going to make them eat their words,” I grumbled as he practically dragged me toward a door that I’d never seen open since I’d gotten here.
After punching in a code on the keypad on the wall next to it, the lock disengaged, and he flung the extra-thick door open. Then he led me down a flight of stairs into the basement I hadn’t known existed beneath the clubhouse until this moment. “Is there anything you need from upstairs before I go?”
I shook my head before I realized exactly what he’d said. “Where are you going, and why does it sound like I won’t be with you?”
“I’m meeting up with the guys. They’re hot on the trail of the shooter, and I need to be there when they hunt the asshole down,” he explained.
“You want me to hide in the basement while you go out there and risk your life for me again?” The fear I’d felt when his body had covered mine was still riding me hard. The possibility of Link getting shot horrified me because he’d quickly come to mean everything to me.
“You bet your sweet ass I do,” he answered unapologetically, determination and fury shining in his blue eyes.
“I’m as good a shot as you are,” I pointed out.
“I know.” He strode across the room, flung open the gun safe, and yanked a nine millimeter out. After slamming a magazine into it, he grabbed an extra one and a box of ammunition. Then he crossed back to me and handed everything over. “I know you can protect yourself, angel, which will help me from worrying about what could happen to you if this guy manages to get past us and into the clubhouse. I fucking hate the idea of letting you out of my sight, but I need you to stay safe for me here so I can concentrate on getting this guy and coming back to you in one piece.”
I couldn’t argue anymore, not if my staying behind was what he needed to stay focused. The last thing I wanted was for him to be distracted when someone was out there firing off shots his way. “Okay. I’ll be the last line of defense. If it comes down to it, nobody will get past me without earning themselves a bullet between their eyes.”
My cocky reminder of how well I’d shot to win our bet was exactly what we both needed to lighten the mood a bit. “That’s right, angel. Go for the kill shot each time and don’t for a second feel guilty if you have to kill any motherfucker who dares to threaten your safety.”
His mouth crashed down over mine, and he kissed me senseless before stalking away. I waited until he made it up the stairs—keeping my gaze on the awesomeness that was his fine ass—and slammed the door shut before I finally scanned the room and really took in what the Silver Saints had done down here. The space was huge, and painting the cinder block walls white made it seem bigger. It was a smart choice, though, since there were no windows. The wall farthest from the stairs was lined with shelves stocked with a crap ton of food and water, and a small kitchen was set up kitty-corner to the left. Next to that, a door led to a bathroom with five stalls and two showers. There was a stack of cots lined against the other wall directly opposite of the cooking space. There were couches and comfortable chairs spread out across the rest of the room, with a big screen television in one area and a smaller one with a couple of game consoles in another. If push came to shove, a bunch of people could be pretty comfortable down here for a long time.
Cat came out of the bathroom, and her eyes softened when she spotted me standing in the middle of the room in a daze. Coming close, she wrapped her arms around my body and gave me a tight squeeze. “Try not to worry too much. Nobody is going to get to us down here. This place is better than any safe room out there.”
“It’s not me that I’m worried about right now,” I admitted softly as I looked up at the door at the top of the stairs.
Cat nodded. “Just keep in mind that the guys know what they’re doing. Facing off against one hired killer is nothing compared to some of the shit they’ve had to deal with. It’ll be okay.”
It had better be. Because if Link didn’t come back to me in one piece after claiming me as his woman, there was going to be hell to pay.
10
Link
Scout, Mac, and Dax were waiting for me in the prez’s office. Mac was yelling at someone on the phone from behind his desk while the other two conferred in front of it. I marched up to them, and they both greeted me with a lift of th
eir chin. “What’ve you got?” I grunted.
“Found a temporary campsite about a half mile from here,” Scout offered. “I doubt the guy will go back. But he was stupid enough to try to take on the Silver Saints, so we left a guy to keep watch.”
We turned toward the desk at the sound of Mac’s fist hitting the top. “No one seems to know who this motherfucker is. Some of the other clubs have heard about the bounty, but none of them could tell me who accepted the job.”
“Shit,” I muttered. If we could find out his identity, it would give us a leg up in finding him by knowing his style and preferences in weapons, perches, and hideouts, or if this was a first-time contract.
“Standard response from the county sheriff?” Dax asked.
Mac nodded. “He’ll look into it through proper channels. But he knows what’s going to happen when we catch the guy. As usual, he’ll help clean up the mess afterward, but he won’t join the hunt.”
Dax’s cell rang, and he answered quickly. “Yeah?” He listened for a minute, then his eyes met mine. They were filled with rage, but his mouth formed a grim smile. “Send it to me. Thanks. Let me know anything else you find out.”
“Jinx was doing door duty in the neighborhood on the other side of the forest. He finally found someone who told him a strange motorcycle was parked overnight in a driveway two doors down from him.”
“So what?” I scoffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Coulda been anybody. Someone visiting, or maybe the neighbor decided they wanted a new ride.”
Dax shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets as he rested a hip on the edge of the desk. “The guy said it’s been vacant for a couple of months. The family moved to Europe, and the realtor drives a Camry. He called her, and apparently, she is out of town. It was there this morning and gone when he checked back about thirty minutes after the time when you guys were being shot at.”
Okay, that was a little better, but still not enough to move on.
“So the guy rides? That doesn’t exactly narrow things down for us,” Scout pointed out.
“True,” Dax conceded, though he didn’t look very frustrated. “Normally, I hate my nosy neighbors, but I’ve got to hand it to them. In the right circumstance—”
“Get the fuck on with it,” I gritted, my jaw tight from trying not to roar my command.
“There was an emblem painted on the bike.”
“Was he able to describe it?” Mac asked. “Think he’d be willing to try to sketch it out?”
“No need,” Dax responded. “Mr. Nosy took a picture of it in case it returned and he ‘had to call the cops.’” He opened his phone and pulled up his texts, then tapped a picture and turned it so that I got a good view of the bike and the man sitting on it.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growled. I was surprised, yet it made complete sense. The design matched the patch for the Hard Aces MC.
Over the past few weeks, I’d been tracking items stolen from the clubs being jumped during runs. I looked for sales of those items on the underground market and whether or not the sales happened within a month or two of the heists. Then I traced the payments. They’d gone to several different sources, but some questionably legal digging led them all back to the same bank account. I had my suspicions on who owned the account, but while my hacking skills were decent, the cybersecurity for this bank was way beyond me. Since Hack wasn’t available to help, I put Benji, one of the prospects, on the task. It had taken him a couple of days, but he’d managed to get in yesterday.
“You get the hard proof it was them?” Mac asked me.
I nodded. “Bank account is registered to the Hard Aces.” We not only had the bank statements but also a trail of the sales of illegal goods that led right back to them. It wasn’t information that could hold up in court, considering how we’d acquired it, but we could send it anonymously to the authorities, giving them cause to raid the compound.
“Makes sense one of theirs took a contract. Their hands are covered in blood and evil shit,” Scout muttered.
“The asshole is probably holed up there thinking his ass is safe.” Dax chuckled maniacally.
Mac hit a button on his phone and barked at the person who answered. “Anonymous info coming your way. Gear up for a raid. You’ve got an hour before shit goes down in a way that’ll be a helluva lot harder to clean up.” Then he hung up without waiting for a response. He tucked his phone into his pocket and came around from behind the desk. “I’m gonna get Bridgit and Molly down in the safe room. Gear up and we’ll meet in fifteen.”
Scout, Dax, and I armed ourselves, then we headed out to our bikes. Mac joined us a few minutes later and climbed on his hog. “Let’s ride,” he growled before taking off like a bat outta hell, same as the rest of us.
It took almost forty minutes to get to the other side of the county where the Hard Aces clubhouse was located. Unlike the Silver Saints compound, their place was a building on the edge of the town, near other similar buildings. They only had the quarter-acre lot the clubhouse stood on, so while the building was fortified as shit, it was their only line of defense.
We brought our bikes to a collective stop behind one of the other structures. Night was falling so we were able to stay in the shadows and watch for our window of opportunity. Mac pointed at the parking lot in front of the Hard Aces clubhouse, and I nodded, recognizing the bike that told us the dead motherfucker was in the house. Joker. Benji had done some searching with the photo and texted me the asshole’s biker name.
The cops started arriving, and the club prez, Dickens—who we referred to as Dickless— sauntered outside to greet them, looking every bit the smug bastard. The sheriff approached him hesitantly and handed him a piece of paper. Dickens glanced at it and though he still portrayed a careless attitude, a subtle tightening around his eyes and mouth told a different story.
My phone vibrated in my vest, and I silently cursed the timing. I wasn’t about to ignore it, though, not with Harlowe back at the compound without me. It turned out to be Huntley, so I walked deeper behind the building where I knew I wouldn’t be seen. “Link,” I answered.
“Tell me you got him,” Huntley demanded.
“Call me again in twenty minutes and you’ll have the answer you want to hear,” I muttered.
“Threat is taken care of on my end. Get the bastard who’s trying to kill my sister, and she’ll be safe.”
“Done.”
“Then you and I are gonna have a conversation,” Huntley growled.
“Sure. When this is done, I’ll have some time to repeat what you already know.” I hung up and rolled my eyes as I stomped back to my brothers. I really hoped he wasn’t going to be a pain in the ass about me and Harlowe. It wouldn’t change anything, but I didn’t like it when my woman wasn’t happy.
“Dickless just opened the door for the sheriff,” Scout informed me when I marched up to his side. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
Less than five minutes later, a couple of cowards came slinking around from the back of the building. I smiled darkly when I spied Joker. Shots rang out inside the building, and the two guys sped up, conveniently running right in our direction.
With the police rushing the club and chaos ensuing, no one noticed when I stepped out into the open and raised my gun. The two punks skidded to a stop, their eyes widening in alarm. I pointed it at the other man and flicked my gun twice to the right, indicating that I was letting him go. He looked relieved and started creeping in that direction. Then I focused on the son of a bitch who’d dared to threaten my woman.
“You know who I am?” I asked.
He nodded, and his eyes darted to the right. A gunshot suddenly came from just behind me, and in my peripheral, I saw the other man hit the ground, weapon in hand. “Stupid fuck,” Dax muttered.
“Drop it,” I demanded.
Joker hesitated, but when I cocked my pistol, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants that had been hidden beneath a flannel shirt. He dr
opped it, and I canted my head to the side in silent command. He reluctantly kicked it to the side, out of his reach.
“Please don’t kill me,” Joker begged. Like the little bitch he was.
I laughed. “Yeah, nothing you say to me is gonna save your life.” The laughter died away quickly and was replaced by the volcano of rage bubbling inside me. “You tried to kill my old lady, motherfucker. I should make you bleed for each minute she feared for her life. But I can be reasonable.” Scout scoffed, and I used my free hand to flip him the bird over my shoulder. “If you tell me where you found out about the contract, I’ll make it a bullet between the eyes. Otherwise—and I’m rooting for this option—I’m taking you to a special room where you’ll do a lot of screaming before you tell me what I want to know anyway.”
Joker looked around frantically, but no one was here to help him. They either hadn’t noticed or weren’t suicidal enough to step between a Silver Saint and his target—which was more likely.
“Who would be stupid enough to hire this little shit for a hit?” Dax mused incredulously when Joker trembled. Actually fucking trembled. It was a valid question.
“I’m a good marksman.”
“If that were true,” Scout snarled, “you woulda hit at least someone today.”
Joker raised his chin and defended himself in a whiny voice. “I’ve completed dozens of jobs. Your compound is big, and I couldn’t get close enough with the gun I brought.”
It dawned on me then. “You like a perch. Out of the action. Because you’re a fucking coward.”
Joker winced but didn’t agree with or dispute my assumption. Didn’t matter, I was done with this bullshit. “The job. How’d you get it?”
He looked at my gun and back to my face, then gazed behind me, presumably taking in the three men I had with me. When his eyes returned to my face, he looked resigned. He rattled off the information for a site on the dark web. The second he stopped talking, he hit the ground with a bullet hole right between the eyes. Just as my girl would’ve done.
Silver Saints MC: Volume 1 Page 13