Page 2 of Property of Stone (Kings of Anarchy MC: Pennsylvania #1)

Cast the First Stone

With his eyes scanning side to side, Stone strode through the parking lot of The Shoppes at Susquehanna Marketplace. A busy Saturday couldn’t be a better time. But he sure as hell wasn’t there to shop.

Fuck no.

The lot was packed with the types of cages Chopper needed. Since Stone happened to be down in Harrisburg earlier today to do a “collection,” he figured he’d tool through some of the local malls to hunt for some rich fuckers’ vehicles on his way back north.

The parts for luxury rides always brought in more scratch, but they also had more anti-theft shit, making them a fucking headache to pinch. But if the model was worth it, they found a way to steal it, since it would bring in a fuckload of scratch for their club’s coffers.

Usually, Wrecker was stealth enough with either their self-loading Ford F-550, a plain, black, unmarked tow truck, or the Snatcher hydraulic setup installed in the bed of an unassuming F-350 pickup.

Either way, Wrecker was a pro on getting in, getting out, and getting the fuck going without getting pinched by the pigs or catching a bullet between the eyes from an overzealous owner. His club brother could steal a cage in under a minute, which was goddamn impressive.

Of course, all those rich motherfuckers had insurance and no doubt would be compensated fairly for their vehicle’s permanent disappearance.

Stone ducked between two vehicles and spotted a Mercedes C-Class parked right fucking next to a BMW 3 Series, two of the easiest sedans to steal and always owned by douchebags.

How about that fucking luck?

He pursed his lips and slowly walked behind them both, keeping his cell phone low and inconspicuous as he snapped photos of their license plates.

Luckily, Devil Dog’s ol’ lady worked at the Department of Motor Vehicles and had access to run those registrations, making stealing cars even easier.

She provided the home or business address of the vehicles they scouted and, BOOM , Wrecker stole it, giving Chopper more cages for him and his crew to strip down.

It only took them about an hour to dismantle a four-door douche-mobile. Those high and mighty assholes probably spent more time than that at the dealership when they bought the fucking thing.

Once the VINs were rendered illegible with a torch, the parts were sold to the highest bidder.

That could be either on the black market, or to a local garage or body shop that didn’t give a shit about where the part came from as long as it was untraceable.

Local shops could charge their customers a premium for that OEM replacement part after buying it for a steal .

The Kings also recently hooked up with an individual with connections so they could sell high-dollar parts overseas. That had been a hell of a score for his club.

He sneered up at the sun. It was too ball-sweating hot today to be doing this kind of shit on foot. He dug into the front pocket of his jeans, pulled out a black elastic hair tie and secured his messy long hair into an equally messy knot at the back of his head.

That was better.

He scanned the parking lot again for either pigs or rent-a-pigs, AKA mall security. They were probably on a donut break. With his head back on a swivel, he worked his way down a few more rows, quickly snapping photos of potential targets as he went.

He never paused behind a vehicle for more than a second or two.

He never wore his fucking cut. And when doing a collection job or other illegal shit, he always swapped out his sled’s plate with one of the hundreds of fake ones they kept on hand.

Luckily, some of his brothers had learned how to make plates in prison, a priceless skill learned while being rehabilitated .

Not him, though. Those CO cucks didn’t trust him enough to allow him one of those jobs. He had no idea why.

A grin threatened to curve his lips.

Until he remembered how much being in the hole for bad behavior sucked. Being stuck in solitary confinement meant he had no one to fuck with, besides himself, or any wet-behind-the-ears screws.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a pretty slit climbing out of a cage at the far end of the parking lot.

Her ride wasn’t worth stealing, that was for damn sure, but he wasn’t interested in that.

He was more focused on riding the woman now opening the back driver’s side door on an old Honda Pilot.

Fuck yeah. He wouldn’t mind one long, sweaty night with that piece. Her ass in those shorts was?—

Oh, fuck no.

When she reached into the back seat, she helped a whole damn nut nugget out of the cage. He might be mini-sized baggage, but still baggage Stone didn’t want to deal with. Even for one night.

Kids could create issues when he was wrecking some plump, juicy pussy. Assuming they weren’t a damn cockblock in the first place.

He should know.

Fuck that shit.

He could find another cunt for his dick to fill. Because fuck if it would be that one.

He shook his head. Damn shame.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t check out her sweet tits. Or enjoy an eyeful of the smooth bare legs he’d like sandwiching his face as she reached into the back seat again. She kept one hand locked on the kid while pulling out what looked like an overnight bag.

Then his goddamn view was blocked by some asshole who had parked right next to her and got out.

Weird that they were the only two vehicles in the farthest area of the lot. There was no reason for the dick to park right next to her with all the empty spots elsewhere. Unless…

Stone narrowed his eyes, took them in for a second, then headed toward his sled on the other side of the lot while still keeping them in his sights.

The newcomer could be some trafficker wanting to snatch the kid or the woman, or, fuck , both.

Despite the lot being busy, it was fucking stupid of her to park in an isolated area .

He hopped on his sled and after his girl roared to life, he began heading in that direction.

By the time he could see their vehicles again, he was still several rows away. He kept one eye on them and the other watching for cages backing out of spots and distracted pedestrians. Getting struck by a clueless driver or running over Sally Shopper was not on his list of things to do today.

But what he saw next made him forget everything else in that fucking parking lot. It also made him scowl.

And caused his blood pressure to spike.

The man was now in her damn face. They weren’t having a civil conversation, either. Fuck no. The dickhead was yelling at her.

He couldn’t hear what was being shouted, but that shit didn’t matter. By her worried expression it, whatever it was, wasn’t good.

She turned in what appeared to be an attempt to ignore him and leaned inside the Honda again. The asshole continued to crowd her and spew whatever bullshit he was spewing.

She had to know him. If a stranger approached any woman Stone knew shouting like that, the asshole’s balls would find themselves deeply embedded in his body cavity. So deep that it would take surgical intervention to locate them again.

He had no fucking clue how she was keeping her shit together; he was on the verge of losing his and he wasn’t even involved.

His eyes flicked down to the kid to see him now bawling.

Stone slipped his Harley into a spot with a clear view of the two vehicles and shut it down, but remained straddling his sled.

Since the man hadn’t put his hands on the woman or kid yet, it would be smart if Stone kept his distance and only observed. But his gut was screaming that something was way the fuck off here.

When she turned after finding whatever she’d been searching for in the Honda, she was gripping a light-blue stuffed elephant.

The moment she offered it to the kid, Stone saw her flinch right before the man backhanded her. Her head jerked violently from the impact and the elephant went flying through the air.

Goddamn , that had to fucking hurt.

Holding a hand to her cheek, she stared at the asshole with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

Before Stone could even react, she grabbed her kid and was encouraging him to climb back into the Honda. Only, the man stopped her by grabbing her arm, whipping her around and punching her right in the fucking face, knocking her to the pavement.

What the actual fuck?

Stone ground his teeth and threw his leg over his sled. It was time to get involved.

He could no longer see her face. She had covered it with her hands trying to protect it from further blows, since the man still stood over her and continued to wail on her like he’d lost his goddamn mind.

As his legs quickly ate up the distance to where they were parked, a man to his left yelled, “Don’t worry, I already called 9-1-1.”

Don’t fuckin’ worry? “Motherfuckin’ pussy,” he growled.

Don’t fucking worry, he’d handle it.

The asshole was now leaning over her, screaming and shaking a finger at her. That finger needed to be broken. Or severed. Or shoved up his fucking ass.

When the man straightened, Stone’s pace went from urgent into crisis mode.

“Fuck you, asshole!” Stone yelled, trying to pull Asshole’s attention when he didn’t get there in time to stop him from kicking her ribs while she was still down.

Her body heaved and rocked from each impact.

For fuck’s sake.

The motherfucker was so focused on the bleeding, injured woman, he was ignoring the kid and the fact that Stone was closing in on him with his fingers curled into tight fists, his jaw set, and his rage racing through every vein in his fucking body.

He had no idea who this fucker was to her, but that was a detail he couldn’t give a shit about. What mattered was that he violently put his hands on a woman.

Ignoring the kid hiccup-sobbing for his mother, Stone remained laser-focused on the threat.

“Pick on someone your own goddamn size,” he growled, coming in hot.

The blond-haired man spun to face Stone. “Who the fuck are?—”