BuzzCutfreezes. "Whatthe hell?"
Thetruck screeches to a halt ten feet away, angling sharply to block the road entirely.Theheavy-duty brush guard reinforcing the grill looks perfectly capable of punching through a brick wall.
Thedriver’s door opens.
Aheavy black leather boot hits the pavement.
Theman unfolding from the cab is an absolute mountain.Broadshoulders fill out a black leather cut worn over a thick gray hoodie.Toweringand solid, he moves with a terrifying, efficient silence.
Hewalks toward us, ignoring the agents and the guns they’ve instinctively reached for.Shadowscling to the hard angles of his face, drawing attention to a closely trimmed dark beard and eyes the exact color of a winter storm.
Heis a walking, breathing threat.
"Stepback, sir!"BuzzCutyells, resting his hand on his holster. "Federaloperation!"
Thegiant continues his steady approach without blinking.Haltingright in front of the agent holding me, his gaze drops to the handcuffs on my wrists.Amuscle feathers in his cheek.
"You'reblocking the road," the giant says.Hisvoice carries a heavy, gravelly weight that makes the very air feel thicker.
"Wehave a suspect in custody,"BuzzCutsays, puffing his chest out. "Moveyour truck."
Thegiant shifts his gaze to me.
Theworld drops out from under me.Panicfades into buzzing static.Hiseyes lock onto mine, pinning me in place under cold, terrifying focus.
"Stateyour name," he commands.
"Mia,"Isqueak.Iclear my throat. "MiaCarlson."
Hisheavy brow dips. "You'rethe auditor."
"I… yes.Iwas hired byPeakWildernessOutfitters."
Heturns back to the agent. "She'semployed by theBrokenHalosMotorcycleClub."
BuzzCutlaughs, producing a nervous, ugly sound. "Idon't care who she works for.She'sgoing to federal prison."
Steppingcloser, the giant invades the agent's personal space with the ease of a man who owns the pavement beneath his boots. "You'rethree miles outside city limits.Youdidn't clear this with theSheriff.Youdidn't clear it with us."
"Idon't need permission from a biker gang to enforce the law."
"Youdo when you're on this mountain," the giant says softly. "Thisisn't your jurisdiction.Andshe isn't your prisoner."
"Isthat a threat?"
"It'sa correction."Thegiant looks at the cuffs again. "Takethem off."
"Orwhat?"
Thegiant moves with blinding speed.Onemassive hand shoots out, grabbing the agent’s wrist hovering near his gun.Aviolenttwist produces a sickening pop.BuzzCutdrops to his knees in the slush with a strangled yelp.
Theother agents draw their weapons.
"Don't," the giant warns, his expression utterly bored. "Firea shot here, and none of you leave this mountain.Mybrothers are two minutes out.Theylack my manners."
Theroar of incoming motorcycles echoes off the canyon walls.
BuzzCutwheezes on the ground, clutching his ruined wrist. "You'remaking a mistake.Obstructionof justice?—"
