“Ride, die, and bleed for speed.” Sledge gives us a weird rock’n’roll sign with his fingers and his tongue out like he’s auditioning for a Kiss cover band role.
For a brief second, I wonder if all British people are this weird or if we just got lucky.
“Wish me luck, Spenny. Operation Get-Grinder-Back is full on. Now, run! The car will be parked on the other side of the property.” Then she quickly kisses my cheek and grins. “Love you”!
I don’t even hesitate. “Love you, too, Parker.”
Then I run. Full-fledged sprinting through the woods with only one aim: get to the car so I can drive my couple back home and be a family again.
I’m a few hundred yards away when the explosion happens. The plan said to keep running.
Keep running and never turn back.
But I do. I turn back and what I see brings me to my knees. The entire side of the building is on fire, part of it collapsing like a fucking sand castle at high tide.
Shaking my head, I tell myself that they’re fine. This was the fucking plan, right? Explosion. Get out. Drive away.
With tears in my eyes and a concrete ball in my stomach, I pray to a God I haven’t spoken to in two decades that the two most important people in my world will be running out and jumping into the get-away car.
Like a robot, I go through the motions.
Run to the car.
Wait for Parker and Grinder.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Then I pray—again—that I haven’t lost the loves of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Parker
“That’s gonna fuckin’ bruise.” You’d think that wearing body armor would make getting shot painless. But no. It feels like being hit with a fucking sledge hammer.
Groaning, I sit up and rub at my stomach, thankful for the addition of trauma pads beneath my kevlar. Honestly, The Butcher came through with the real good shit. It’s still gonna bruise like a motherfucker, but no broken bones so, yai.
“Parker! You’re not dead!” Grinder’s announcement would be comical if we weren’t in a dungeon with a now-faceless nun.
“Ta-dah!” I lift his T-shirt—that of course I’m still wearing—and show off my protection before running over to the bars. His eyes are wide with wonder, like he’s seeing a mirage, and for once, he seems speechless.
Even battered and bruised, Grinder is still the singular most panty-wetting, hot-as-fuck cumfest to ever exist.
The cage door opens as I reach them, with Kincaid grinning from ear to ear, dangling the key between her fingers.
“Their not-so-loyal lamb helped us out before her face caught a bullet.” She holds the door open and valiantly gestures for Grinder to follow her out but he isn’t quick enough.
I run inside and throw myself on him, only realizing he can’t actually catch me at the last minute because his hands are cuffed behind his back. It leaves me clinging to him like a spider monkey but I couldn’t give any more fucks than a celibate nun. Our mouths collide, tongues tangling, and his magnificent cock immediately stands to attention at my core. Mmm. I shudder at the contact, despite the clothes separating us.
Another explosion jolts me to my danger senses—instead of the pleasure senses that want me to have an orgasm—and I’m on high alert again as I pull away and jump down from Grinder.
“My sister. That motherfucker has my sister.” He’s clearly torn between seething, and the fact that I didn’t just get shot. I wish I could wrap him in a cocoon until it’s all over but I’ve planted at least three more explosives so we need to get the fuck gone, quickly.
“Kincaid, you got his cuffs? I’m going for my sister-in-law.” She nods, waggling the keys, and I cup Grinder’s face with my palm. “Catch me if you can, we gots some cunts to kill.” Grinning, I smack a hard kiss on his lips and rush back toward the door the trigger-happy wankstain left through.
Grinder is shouting something about waiting for him and being careful, but I’m choosing to block out the specifics as I pound up the cement stairs into the glorious chaos…or I should say Khaos because these motorcycle dudes are everything I ever imagined they could be and more. Fuck the TV shows, these guys are the real deal and I’m practically trembling with excitement. Or maybe it’s adrenaline. Who the fuck knows and who the fuck cares? Not me!
This isn’t one of the main, big-gated community compounds of the cult wankers, it’s the huge fuck-off mansion, all gated andarmed-securitied up to the max…but their security isn’t enough. This place will burn.