“You checked out. Do you have a bike here?” Roadrunner asked, leaning against the bar.
“All right, Garrett, let’s see what you got. Wait until Jameson walks past—” Julio instructed when Garrett interrupted.
“I’m not a damn idiot. I’ve worked a few ops in my time,” he growled as he slunk behind the building, waiting for Jameson to lead the man out. He held a tranquilizer in his hand, and the man would never know what hit him.
Jameson sauntered toward the area and passed Garrett, who slid out of his hiding place and jabbed the man in the neck.
Roadrunner let out a feral cry as he leaped for Jameson’s throat. Jameson jabbed him with his fist, hitting the man in the face, but the biker kept coming.
“Shit,” Garrett said as Roadrunner grabbed Jameson by the neck, choking him against the wall of the building. He wrapped his arm around Roadrunner’s neck and squeezed. The man refused to go down.
“What the hell did you have in that shot? Saline?” Jameson hissed as he coughed.
“There’s enough tranquilizer to knock down a bull,” Julio said, disbelieving what he saw.
Roadrunner thrashed around and slammed Garrett against the building, causing him to grunt.
“Come on, asshole, get this son-of a-bitch off me,” Garrett said as the man slammed him against the building harder.
Jameson swung his fist, sending one of the man’s teeth flying. Roadrunner smiled as blood ran down his chin.
“What the hell,” Jameson exclaimed as he reared back and hit the man again while Garrett increased the pressure on the man’s neck.
Roadrunner slowed and began to weave as Garrett tightened his hold. The man fell to his knees and finally dropped to the ground. Jameson held his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
“How long do you think he’ll stay out?” Garrett asked, breathing hard.
“Shit, if I know. It’s supposed to knock him out immediately. Help me get him in the bushes,” Jameson said as he grabbed a leg. “We gotta get him hidden before someone else comes out.”
“You’ll need his jacket to get into the compound,” Garrett reminded him.
“Yeah, great. Thanks for the reminder. It’s bad enough the man tried to choke me, now I get to wear his smelly freakin’ jacket,” Jameson snarked.
“My back has brick imprints on it while you yanked your wiener. Didn’t they teach you anything in the military?” Garrett said, grinning.
“Keep it up, asshole. You realize I’m headed into the lion’s den to get your woman. Maybe she’ll develop a hero complex and dump your ass. Besides, you look like a freaking grizzly,” Jameson harassed him.
“You got it. I’m mean, have a memory like a vault, and I can hunt anything down,” Garrett bragged.
“We know you don’t know how to get your asses moving,” Julio interrupted their razzing. “Matthew’s moving to the site. He has Tara and Rachel with him. She’ll see if she can recognize the building where they kept her.”
“Leaving now, boss,” Jameson said, getting on Roadrunner’s bike. “Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”
“I’m counting on it,” Garrett said as he headed to his truck. He lagged behind and turned off before the building came into sight. Getting out of his truck, he jogged toward the area Julio instructed him to breach once Jameson gave them the heads-up.
Jameson’s words stung. Riley wasn’t his woman, but her blonde hair and startling blue eyes appealed to him.Jealousy ate at him at the thought of Riley liking Jameson. If the dude took a shower, cut his hair, and trimmed his beard, he probably wasn’t ugly. Did Riley go for his type? He shook his thoughts away as he drew closer to the buildings. The security appeared lacking, which ran in their favor. Hopefully, they found Riley before any harm came to her. Bikers didn’t need a cause to hurt a woman. They took what they wanted, but they wouldn’t be taking Riley.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Minutes felt like hours as Riley lay in the dark. Her stomach growled, reminding her she had forgotten to eat this morning. Thankfully, no one entered the room, and she tried to count the minutes until her two hours were up and Stitch opened the door.
Using her good arm, she lifted herself up and dragged herself across the room. She gritted her teeth and breathed out her mouth to keep from screaming holy hell as her leg protested the slightest movement.
“Come on, ya big baby, you have to get prepared to protect yourself,” she chastised. The bucket reeked in the air-tight room and the tiny room seemed to go for miles as she made her way to the opposite corner. She almost laughed at herself for her own foolishness. She deemed her arm broken and possibly her leg. Her pants seemed uncomfortably tight, but she imagined her mind played tricks on her because she held her bladder for what seemed like forever.
Outside the door, she heard the sound of boots running and braced herself for the bright light. It fell silent suddenly,which worried her even more. She pressed on, holding her good arm out to locate the wall, feeling nothing. She placed her hand on the floor and gritted her teeth as she scooted a bit further. Pain shot up her leg like a lightning bolt, making her stop and pant.
The light flickered on, and she wished she remembered to drag the vomit-filled bucket to throw on the already foul-smelling man. The knob jiggled, and the door swung open.
