Page 3

3

T here she is. Those big doe eyes. Those rosy cheeks. Those plump lips.

My Angel.

The last time I saw her was in my shitty bathroom back at the Western. She’d been in there cleaning up someone else’s vomit off her clothes. Wendy had found her first and I’d been instantly pissed because that bitch couldn’t seem to grasp basic fucking boundaries. But then Wendy stepped aside, and my eyes found Abbey wearing less clothing than I’d seen on her since I’d stolen her from her parents, and naturally, I took her in.

My gaze dropped, taking in the heavy set of her tits straining against the fabric of a tight white tank. And then my eyes moved lower, which is when shit got confusing, because the moment I saw the swell of her tummy… well somehow Abbey morphed in to something else. Someone else. A person I never wanted to see again.

“Ringo! Let’s round them up!”

Smitty’s yell severs my connection to those big brown eyes staring back at me, and I nod over the hood of the ute Abbey’s in, rolling my shoulders back and taking in a deep fucking breath.

For weeks, I’ve been searching for her, desperate to see her again. But my time’s been eaten up with our hunt for answers.

Who the fuck killed our prospect, Morris, and left him to rot in the trunk of Casey’s car?

And where the fuck is our missing prospect, Cookie?

Not to mention the warehouse breach and the men killed alongside some of the Marx crew from warehouse four.

I’ve barely slept two hours each night, not knowing where my Angel went. If she was safe. If someone was hurting her.

The loud rumble of our Harleys brings me back to reality. To why we’re here and what we’re doing.

Despite Lexi’s fury over me letting Abbey run off, Ayden reached out earlier to request that we go on standby. Said they’d located Abbey, but so had the corrupt cops, so our help might be needed.

But I didn’t just sit back and fucking wait. No way was I leaving Abbey’s safety in the hands of a bunch of Catholic kids from Fox Pines. So I called Liam Marx, who let me know his brother Griffin and cousin Devon were already on their way to get her for the Angel sisters.

I’d been pissed that now, Bec and Amanda Angel were finally stepping in, even after I’d already asked for their help. But fuck, shit with the pandemic has made everyone’s lives hard, so I let it slide and convinced Liam to give me the location.

Leather and Lace Gentlemen’s Club.

Fuck. Has my Angel been stripping? Showing her body to horny men?

I squeeze the hand grip tight, not able to help myself as I take another look at Abbey travelling in the ute next to me.

She’s fucking beautiful.

Easing off on the throttle, my speed drops and Trunk shifts to the side, letting my ride fall back next to him and the silver car that fucking rammed into the back of the ute carrying Abbey only minutes ago.

Maintaining my speed with the silver car, I glance in through the passenger window to see a guy sneering back at me, chatting on his phone, like the fucking glass between us can protect him.

What an idiot.

I already know who he is. I know who they all are. Those sick fuckers that hurt my Angel.

This here is Donny Allen. Nephew to the prick cop, Ian Allen. The same arsehole who somehow had a hand in disabling our security cameras at our warehouses, luring us out of the compound a few weeks ago.

While most of the men were out investigating, that bastard and his officer prick mates stormed in and fucked with our women and some of our remaining men.

We don’t let shit like that slide in the Southern Sadists MC, and soon enough, that fucker will learn that lesson.

With the tunnel exit up ahead, I bide my time, wanting to be away from the CCTV cameras before I make my move, and I subtly slip the glass breaker from my cut, and grip it tightly in my hand.

The moment we’re clear of the tunnel and the night sky is above us again, I curl my lip at the fucker still staring back at me and shift my hog closer.

Donny frowns.

I smirk.

Then I lift the glass breaker to the window and press the button.

The glass explodes, and the car swerves as the dickheads inside yell like little bitches. I veer away for a moment, making sure the fuckers don’t hit me with their car.

My men around us roar with laughter, hooting and yelling teasing remarks at the pricks inside the car before JD copies my move on the driver’s side, smashing the glass.

Daniel, the fucking little prick, starts yelling like a yabbie has latched onto his pin dick. I can tell the fucker’s never faced this level of ruthlessness before. I can’t fucking wait until he realises it’ll never end until his cold, dead body is six feet under.

“Ahhh stop! What are you doing, you crazy bastards!” Daniel yells, and I shift my ride closer, watching as the ute carrying my Angel guns it out of here while we take care of business.

“I hear you like to rape women,” I snarl into the open window, and Daniel’s eyes go wide as Donny just smirks.

I see fucking red!

My fist snaps out and cracks against his nose. Blood bursts from the split in his skin from the impact, and he starts fucking screeching like a hyena.

“Not fucking smiling now, are you, Donny Allen?”

Even as he cups his bleeding nose, his eyes widen at hearing his name fall from my lips .

“Leave us alone!” Daniel yells, so forceful his voice cracks, and my men just laugh, those nearest his car kicking their boots into the side.

“Stop!” Daniel shouts again, but it’s then that we hear sirens, and I know our fun will have to wait.

My eyes flash to the road ahead, catching the taillights of the ute as it exits the freeway.

Thank fuck.

“Stay in place!” I yell for my club brothers to hear, and the message gets passed on so everyone knows.

We can’t let these fuckers follow Abbey, so we stick close to them, blocking their path, making sure they have no choice but to stay on the freeway as the sound of sirens gets closer.

We’re lucky, given the time of night, that the freeway isn’t congested. People see and hear us riding in a pack, and they either speed up or hang back, but it also means that the cops can gain on us faster.

“You wait until my uncle gets you!” Donny yells out the window, blood still pissing from his nose.

“I can’t fucking wait to meet your uncle Ian. Be sure to tell him Ringo’s coming for him!” I yell over the roar of the engines, my rage bubbling up.

I want to pummel these fuckers now and be done with it.

But not yet. Not while an entire police precinct is ready to ride our arses.

A sharp whistle cuts through the noise from over the hood of Daniel’s car to where Smitty is, motioning ahead.

It’s time to ditch Tweedle-fucking-Dum and Tweedle-fucking-Dee .

Moving in sync, my club brothers veer left, our bikes slicing through traffic like a pack of wolves closing in on a kill before we take the exit while Daniel and Donny keep gunning it down the freeway, thinking they got away.

The second our wheels hit the metro streets, cops swarm like they’d been waiting for us.

Lights flash. Sirens wail. They were prepared and we rode right into this shit.

“Fuck!” Smitty shouts. “Split up! Stay with your partner! Meet in eight hours!”

We don’t hesitate. We know the drill.

Some of us will get nabbed tonight. That’s inevitable, but better a few than all.

We all have a designated wingman, and as mine, JD speeds up beside me, his grin wide and reckless.

“Time to have fun?”

“Yeah.” I chuckle, feeling that familiar rush kick in. “Time to have fun.”