I might get it done the old-fashioned way, but I’ve got this.
The bikers reserved three rooms for their men, and although it takes a little extra planning, I swap to the room next to theirs. Hell, they’re down to only four guys in Boston after the fight. If they’d booked one more, they could have each had a room to themselves. It would have been wasted money. Those motherfuckers won’t make it through the night.
I update Trent, the explosives guy, to let him know I’ll be in the hot zone.
If it’s possible to grab one of those assholes, I will. I’m also not about to get myself blown to hell by being stubborn.
I can hear them before I see them.
Their bikes are obnoxiously loud.
I’d never ride in this kind of weather. You’re asking to fuck up your bike, but that’s just me. They obviously have something to prove.
Hell, they’re from Florida.
Maybe they didn’t realize it would be a problem.
I peek out the blinds. I’ve already got the door propped open so they won’t hear it click when I pull it open.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I can only assume that’s Trent telling me he’s locked and loaded. His job is to run up and place a small incendiary device on whichever bike ends up in the middle.
Right on cue, the first MC member enters the parking lot. The other three follow, pulling into the spots right in front of the doors to the rooms they’re staying in.
It’s kind of a dark image knowing the empty bikes they left in the lot belonged to the guys Grim took out that first night. It vaguely makes me wonder what happened to the bikes of the guys who didn’t make it out of the ring tonight, but that’s not my problem.
My adrenaline and cortisol do their respective things, causing my senses to hyperfocus and my breathing to regulate.
They climb off their bikes and pull off their helmets.
I stay focused on the man closest to me. He takes off his helmet like the others, but rather than carrying it inside with him, he drops it onto the seat of his bike and squats down to dig something out of one of his saddlebags.
I can’t be certain the other three have actually made it into the rooms, but if one of them checks the bathroom…
We’re fucked.
This was always going to be a tight transition.
I yank open the door and make my way to the parking lot. When I’m only a few feet away from the guy they left behind, the door to one of their rooms closes. I make it to the man as he’s busy eyeing Trent, who approaches from the other direction.
I tap the asshole on the shoulder, and he turns to appraise me in the same second he pops up.
My fist connects with his jaw, and I fully follow through. Normally, I don’t, because my size makes it questionable about if I might actually kill someone, but that’s usually only something I worry about when I aim for the temple. Pulling back, I prepare to land another punch. Only, I don’t have to. His eyes go hazy, and he wobbles like he’s about to take his bike down.
Grabbing him by his vest, I tug him to me, bend down, and hoist him over my shoulder before toting him across the parking lot.
“I’m offering cover,” Trent says, backing toward us with his eyes on the motel.
We barely make it to the front of my SUV before the explosion hits. The windows explode outward, showering the sidewalk and parking lot with glass. We’re twenty to twenty-five feet away, and the heat is still enough to have me moving farther back.
Trent makes it to my side as I toss the MC member on the ground to unlock the back of my SUV. “I brought a little cocktail, but it appears you had it under control.”
“Thanks,” I grunt, waiting for the back hatch to respond to the clicker.
He squats, pulling a syringe from his pocket. He uncaps it and jabs the needle into the man’s throat. “This way, you won’t have to worry about him waking up on your drive. That could be an unpleasant surprise.” He rips the needle free, caps it, and stands. “Alright. Let me help you get him into the vehicle. We need to splitnow.”
Cormac meets me outside the shed and, together, we carry the heavy fucker down into his workshop. It’s almost more creepysince the upgrade. The floor is a type of black-painted something that’s smooth to avoid any DNA landing in any cracks or crevices.
I would have thought concrete was fine, but Cormac gave me a thorough lecture on why that’s not the case.
