The sight in front of me is not one I could have ever guessed I’d come across. Three women sit beside three men, one of them Shocker. They all wince as soon as the sunlight shines on their faces.
“What the fuck?” I demand.
“What the fuck is right,” Shocker grinds out.
The women don’t seem scared of the guys at all. In fact, all three of them curl up next to a man. Two prospects and Shocker, just as Scar said. And then I realize that Scar is still on the phone, but only when he mimics all of ourwhat the fucks.
“Those fucks for the Front Mob Family were dirty as shit. They feigned engine trouble, and when we stopped, they ambushed us, threw us in here, and stole our fucking bikes.”
Scar and I are both speechless.
A man’s bike, that’s like stealing a woman, but then when my gaze flicks to the women sitting beside Shocker, Flop, and Screamer, I realize that they would fucking take women. There is no way in hell these girls are here voluntarily. They’ve got tearstained faces and are trembling as they sit in nothing but their goddamn underwear.
“The keys in the cab?” Shocker asks.
“Absolutely fucking not. When did this shit go down?” I demand.
He looks to one of the prospects, and then they all shift their gazes back to meet mine. I arch a brow, waiting for an answer. Shocker jerks his chin toward me and asks what time it is now. I don’t answer because I’ve got my phone out and facing them on the FaceTime shit, but Scar does answer.
“It’s four in the afternoon,” Scar announces.
“Fuck,” Flop hisses. “We’ve been in this fucking box since noon.”
Thank fuck I found them. I can’t imagine how long they would be stuck in here if I hadn’t been trying to run away from my problems, then turn around and haul ass back to them. We got six people here, and only one of them can go on the back of my bike, which I would only let a woman do, and since all three of these women are only wearing underwear, that won’t be happening. Not with the distance we have to ride to get back to the clubhouse.
“Fuck is right. I can get one of the trucks and head your way, but it’s going to be at least two hours before I get there, and that’s with speeding,” he calls out.
Shaking my head, I clear my throat because I do not want to sit here for hours while we get everyone a ride back to the clubhouse, and since Scar is the only one around, that’s what it would take.
“I can hot-wire a box truck,” Flop announces. “As long as a few of you are good with riding back here on the way home. Only two passengers can come up front.”
“And none in a bra without raising suspicion,” I add.
At least that line garners a little laughter from the people who have been stuck in the back of a truck all fucking afternoon. Flop climbs out of the truck, then I watch as he walks around to the cab. Thankfully, it’s unlocked, so at least I didn’t have to break into anything.
I let him do his thing while I help Shocker get down. There is no way he can ride back there with his hips and knees. I decide without discussing it, and nobody bitches that he’s going to be the one in the cab with Flop.
“Okay, I’ll follow the truck back, and then we can figure out what the fuck is actually going on,” I say as I turn the phone around so that I’m face-to-face with Scar.
He jerks his chin to the camera, then reminds me to keep vigilant before he ends the call. Shifting my focus back to the people who are still in the truck, I can’t believe this shit happened—and today.
“They were the Front Mob Family for sure?”
Shocker chuckles, then shakes his head a couple of times before his gaze flicks to meet mine. “Brother, Paul was with them when they showed up at the clubhouse. I don’t know what kind of shit this is or what they’re trying to pull, but it’s not fucking cool.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “And she’s marrying him right fucking now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
VIKING
My heart races,panic fills me, and I know that the blood has drained from my face. Shocker’s expression isn’t much different as that realization slams into him as well. They fucked us over, and they’re going to get Lainey.
“But to what avail?” I ask, voicing my thoughts.
“Got no goddamn clue whether it’s a test, a fuck-you, or what. I don’t give a shit, either. That was some goddamn bullshit, and I won’t deal with these fucks ever again.”
Never a-fucking-gain.