He drove his elbow into the biker’s throat, cutting off the man’s snarl mid-breath, then followed it with a sharp jab to the gut.It was military precision, fast, brutal, and efficient.The biker folded, gasping, but Viper didn’t stop there.
A knee to the face sent him sprawling.By then, the first biker had recovered enough to come at him again.Fury twisted his face, and he clutched his wrist with his good hand.
“You’re dead, bastard!”he yelled.
Viper turned to meet him, expression unreadable.“Get in line.”
He ducked under the punch, landed one of his own square in the biker’s ribs.The sound of breaking bone was sharp, final.Another blow to the jaw and the man went down hard, out cold before he hit the gravel.
The whole thing lasted less than a minute.
When it was done, both men were sprawled on the ground, groaning or silent.The motel clerk had vanished somewhere inside, probably calling the cops or pretending not to see a thing.
Viper stood over them, chest heaving once, twice, before he forced the air out slowly.He unclenched his fists and steadied his pulse.
Then he turned back to the girl.She hadn’t run.
She was pressed against the wall, eyes huge, breathing hard.The morning light caught in her dark brown hair, which looked tangled from sleep and wind.
It made her look softer than she probably wanted to be seen.There was dirt on her jeans, a small rip near the knee, and the backpack at her feet looked ready to burst from overuse.
She looked like hell, but she was still standing.A fighter.Viper liked fighters.
“You okay?”he asked, voice low.
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Y-yeah.”Her voice was shaky.
He believed her about as much as he believed his own lies.
Viper glanced down at the two men again.“You know them?”
Her jaw tightened.“They work for my father.”
“Your old man run with the Vultures?”
Her silence was all the answer he needed.
He let out a slow whistle.“Well, that explains the attitude.”
She bristled at that, crossing her arms.“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No,” he said, shrugging, “but you sure as hell needed it.”
Her glare sharpened.“I could’ve handled it.”
“Yeah?”He nodded toward Jax, still groaning on the ground.“Looked like you were doin’ real fine a minute ago.”
That earned him a muttered curse.But behind the spark in her eyes, he saw something else.There was fear, exhaustion, and desperation.He’d seen that look before.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw.“You got somewhere to go?”
She hesitated, glancing at the duffel at her feet.“Does it matter?”
“Depends,” he said.“If those bastards were after you here, they’ll be after you wherever you’re headed.”
Her throat worked.“I can take care of myself.”
