Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Thank fuck none of their evasive moves were successful and they were slowly forced off the road by tightening up the circle. As soon as they were all off road completely and at a stop, everyone was off their sleds and on their feet in a goddamn instant.
Stone shook his head when a TSMC member jumped from his sled and began to sprint toward the woods.
Chicken shit.
Little did that motherfucker know how much of a fucking mistake that was. But he would. In three…
Two…
“Get ‘em, Thor!” Ogre bellowed.
That command alone was enough to make Stone’s asshole pucker. He knew the damage Thor could inflict. The canine could rip out a fucker’s throat within thirty seconds.
The nightmares he’d had after seeing that shit took a while to fade.
With a ferocious bark, the mastiff-type dog launched himself from the sidecar and tore after the biker on the run. While the biker was cooking, the massive dog was faster. That motherfucker could move when he wanted to, but most of the time, he preferred to lie around like a rug.
His brothers had already surrounded the remaining three and, while dodging flying fists, yanked them off their bikes. Despite that, they all paused to watch Thor do his thing.
When Thor launched himself this time, all his weight hit the fleeing biker, knocking him down. Hard.
Stone winced. That had to fucking hurt.
Ogre yelled, “Thor, hold!”
The Presa Canario clamped his teeth around the screaming biker’s throat and held fast. The dog’s training was damn impressive. Stone was happy as fuck it wasn’t his neck with teeth clamped around it.
While Ogre kept his attention on Thor and the downed biker, the rest of them concentrated on the other three now forced to sit on their asses.
With over twenty Kings circling them, no one was going anywhere.
Hopefully, Taryn couldn’t see past the wall of bodies.
With a quick glance at their patches, it looked like none of the Souls were officers for their club, unless the runner Thor had in his grip was one. If not, it made him wonder if their prez actually knew where they were.
Didn’t matter, they would pay for their mistake either way.
Ransom got right into the face of the one with the name patch identifying him as Zero. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”
Stone pushed through the wall of his brothers so he could hear the answer.
The biker had his hands up and palms out in surrender. “Just ridin’ through, brother. Didn’t realize we stepped on Kings’ toes.”
“First off, that’s fuckin’ bullshit, and second, you ain’t my brother.” He pointed to his own president patch. “See that? Your prez didn’t bother to reach out to me. Not only is that fuckin’ disrespectful, but a damn good way to make enemies.”
“Your prez know you’re just ridin’ through?” Stone asked.
“No,” Zero answered.
“Another bullshit answer,” Ransom said. “When’s the last time your club went for a joy ride in this area?”
None of them said shit.
“Fuck around and find out,” Stone mumbled under his breath.
Just then, a large van pulled up behind them and five of their eight prospects spilled out.
This situation would be a good test for them, too. Because like the ol’ ladies, this had to be a life they wanted to live before accepting their patches. And if they weren’t willing to do what needed to be done, then they’d never earn those sacred rockers.
They were Kings not pussies.
“You want them doin’ this or takin’ the sleds back to the shop?” Stone asked Ransom.
“They can get the sleds outta here seein’ as we’re sittin’ ducks on the side of a road. Might not be a busy one, but still, someone might come the fuck along.”
Damn.
Stone would’ve liked to see the recruits pull their damn weight. But the prez was right, the fewer witnesses the better. No damn witnesses would be Stone’s preference.
The reality was, they couldn’t take their time dealing with these assholes. It was too risky.
“You hear that?” Stone asked the prospects. A chorus of yeahs rose up. “Squid, don’t fuckin’ leave ‘til we tell you. The rest of you, pick a sled and head back. You know where to take them.”
With a smile, Chopper, who was in charge of the Kings’ chop shop, hooted and rubbed his hands together. “We can have those fuckers broken down by midnight and a lot of those parts sold by mornin’. This will be a damn good haul.”
Stone grunted.
“You can’t take our rides!” the Twisted Soul with the road name Cruiser yelled.
Stone cocked an eyebrow. “Fuckin’ stop us, then.”
“That ain’t all we’re gonna take.” Ogre’s deep voice came from outside the circle. “Make a fuckin’ hole!” The circle opened up and Ogre marched the biker with puncture wounds decorating his neck into the center and shoved him to the ground with the other three. His blood-splattered name patch claimed his road name was Reno.