“Why have you taken me?” she screamed. “Is it because I know you and your douchewagon band of biker brothers are selling weapons to the Black Apostles? How are you guys getting the guns from Iraq? Who is your source over there?”
“I said sit down and shut up!” Bulldog shouted. He didn’t turn to her, but she was still overwhelmed by a wave of hellacious halitosis.
She beat back the urge to retch and shook the metal wiring like a lunatic. It rattled Bulldog enough to make him turn away from the light that suddenly flicked from red to green.
“Stop it!” he bellowed, foul spittle flying from his mouth to stick in his beard. Samantha wouldn’t have been surprised if the stuff grew legs and walked right back into his mouth. “I told you I—”
HONNNNNKKKK!
Now it wasn’t Bulldog causing the head-splitting ruckus. It was the cars piled up behind them.
“Hey!” Samantha yelled, trying to keep Bulldog’s eyes on her. But it was no use. He turned back, saw the light was green, and put his foot on the gas.
The van lurched forward, forcing her to cling to the metal mesh to keep her balance. But before the vehicle could go more than a couple of yards, she heard it. A noise like rolling thunder. The sound of a two-wheeled beast with a badass set of pipes eating up the asphalt.
Ozzie!
“Shit!” Bulldog cursed before the impossible happened.
Ozzie darted in front of them on his big motorcycle, cutting them off. Like a hero from a comic book, he leapt from the bike onto the van’s front bumper.
Crash!
The van hit the abandoned bike, knocking it to the road and forcing Bulldog to slam on the brakes. But it was too late. The van rolled over the bike and got high-centered on its metal and chrome chassis. The resulting screeeeech of steel against blacktop reminded Samantha of metal fingernails down a chalkboard.
Her first thought wasn’t Thank goodness! I’m saved! Oh no. Her first thought was Noooo! Not his motorcycle! He loves that thing!
But he’d sacrificed it. For her.
Ozzie rolled onto the hood of the van in a move that would have done a stunt man proud, stopping with one knee planted above the engine and one big biker boot slammed against the windshield as the van rocked to a stop. His handgun was out and aimed straight at Bulldog’s head. The look in his eye was one Samantha recognized.
The warrior is back…
All the noise of the past few seconds was replaced by an eerie quiet. Which made it easy to hear Ozzie when he shouted, “The way I see it, you have two options! The first is I blow your fucking head off!”
Breath bated, Samantha stared through the front windshield at the man she thought she knew. Thought being the sticking point. Because this guy, the one threatening death and looking like he meant it, was someone else entirely.
“The second is you exit that van, keeping your hands where I can see them!” Ozzie continued, just as the sound of sirens blared in the distance.
“Fuck you!” Bulldog shouted, darting his head left and right, trying to think his way out of the situation. Samantha figured the biker’s IQ matched his shoe size, so she wasn’t holding out much hope he’d actually find a solution.
“What’s that?” Ozzie yelled.
“Fuck you!” Bulldog bellowed again, breathing hard and fouling the air with his putrid breath.
“That’s what I thought you said!” Ozzie called, his words dripping with malice. Cars began to dart around them, the passengers and drivers gaping at the scene playing out even as they fled from it. “Talk of bedroom antics gives me a boner, thanks. But that wasn’t one of your choices! Now, I’m going to count to three! If you haven’t exited that van by the beat of four, you’re dead! Simple as that!”
Bulldog glared at Ozzie with naked hatred. “Who the fuck is this guy?” he asked under his breath. Samantha wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to her. Didn’t matter, since she was pretty sure neither of them knew the answer.
“One!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bulldog hissed, his fat-fingered hands flexing on the steering wheel.
“Two!”
Samantha’s heart pounded when she saw Ozzie’s finger move. It was subtle. But one second, his pointer was straight against the trigger guard. The next second, it was curled menacingly around the trigger.
He’s going to do it! He’s going to shoot Bulldog right in front of me!
