I couldn’t ask for more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Keno—
Two days later, Remy and Derek get out on bail.
The club is waiting for them.
We follow their vehicle in an unmarked panel van up onto the interstate. Ahead of us is Baja in a tow truck.
Utah was able to cut the radiator line, and it won’t be long before their pickup overheats.
Baja comes through on the walkie-talkie. “I’m starting to see steam. Get ready.”
Rock eases off the gas of the panel van, and we drop back. So does Baja in the tow truck until there’s half a mile between us and their vehicle.
“There they go,” Darko says, and we all watch them pull to the shoulder, smoke coming from under the hood.
Baja flips on his flashers and pulls in behind them.
Rock checks the side mirrors. “No cars behind us.”
“That’s because the boys are in those trucks holding up every lane.” I grin.
“Get ready.”
The men climb out of the truck, and we roll up in the right lane and stop. Utah throws the side door open.
They’re gathered around the raised hood.
We lift our weapons, and they turn and stare into the double-barrel shotguns Darko and I hold on them.
“Oh, fuck,” Derek mumbles.
Baja pulls a 9mm from the back of his jeans and herds them into the van.
Utah makes short work of duct-taping their mouths and wrists.
“You got their truck?” Rock asks Baja, who gives him a thumbs up and slams the van’s side door shut.
We drive on.
Rock checks the sideview mirror.
There’s not a car in sight as Baja hooks the pickup to the tow truck.
We drive into the mountains to a ravine we’ve used before.
Rock takes an old dirt road that’s two tracks overgrown with tall grass.
It’s dead quiet in the surrounding woods when he finally stops.
It’s a hike through the trees to the ravine, and we walk the three at gunpoint.
Remy is stoic, but Derek and the other guy are making all kinds of noises behind the duct tape.
If the truth be told, I’d be fine with just ending Remy, but that’s not how the MC works. It has to be all of them. They were all in it together. They chose their own demise.
