When we stop, I’ll make a run for it.
Glenn leans close, his breath warm in my ear. “We’ll be back in Atlanta soon.”
Suddenly, I feel a sharp prick in my arm.
“What the—” My voice slurs as my vision blurs.
“Sorry, baby,” Glenn whispers. “I can’t risk losing you again.”
My body slumps against the seat, darkness closing in as my eyelids flutter shut.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DECLAN
Three hours later, my brothers and I gather in the weathered meeting room of our MC. The heavy leather chairs creak beneath them as they sit, but I can’t bring myself to stay still. I pace the floor, gripping my switchblade so tightly my knuckles turn white.
Mickey hunches over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. We’re all waiting for him to find something—anything—that will lead us to her.
“Declan, we’ll get her back,” Hassle says from his chair, his voice steady.
“We have to,” I mutter.
Joe leans back, his British accent cutting through the tension. “Like we discussed, our brother here is in love.”
Joe splits his time between Delaware and London, but no matter where he is, he’s one of us. All my brothers are. We ride for each other, no questions asked.
I remember staring into her eyes earlier before we left the house. “Do you trust me?”
She batted those long lashes. “Yes.”
Mickey glances up from his laptop. “I found them.”
Thank goodness I put a tracker in the tag of her panties.
I stop pacing.“Good. Grab your weapons. I’m going to make that motherfucker scream,” I growl.
An hour later, the rumble of our bikes echoes through the empty streets as we approach a warehouse park. We cut our engines. It’s late, and the streets are quiet—no prying eyes.
We park out of sight, away from the building Mickey traced them to. Gone are the tuxedos; we’re back in our boots, jeans, flannel shirts, and our club jackets.
“I’ll take the front. You guys go in from the back,” I say, my voice firm.
“Be careful, brother,” Hassle says, clapping a gloved hand on my shoulder.
The others nod, their eyes filled with silent concern. They know what Meridea means to me.
Being a military man has its perks. I’m able to provide the element of surprise. And startle the shit out of my enemies.
I plant C-four under an SUV parked nearby and press down on the hood to set off its alarm. The blaring noise shatters the silence, drawing attention.
I run to the front of the building and plaster my back against the cold brick structure.
“The alarm is going off,” I hear someone say from the inside.
“It’s probably nothing,” another says.
My heart rams against my ribcage as I raise my hand and tap my gloved knuckles on the heavy door.
