RIDING DIRTY (Steel Titans MC Book 4) by Franca Storm (ebook voice reader .txt) 📕

Just as I was preparing to follow it up there, a shot rang out. A bullet plunged into the porch railing, just narrowly missing me. The shock of it jolted me and had me losing my grip above. I crashed onto the porch, just managing to break my fall with my hands to minimize the damage.

I executed a roll and used the momentum to flip back to my feet.

My senses screamed at me.

Behind you.

My fists at the ready, I spun, clipping a soldier who’d just come out of nowhere. These guys were like frigging ghosts. His head snapped to the side from my hit, but he managed to maintain his footing. He launched himself at me, coming in hot, his fists flying.

I met him blow for blow, fists, flat palm strikes, knee strikes, and kicks, a whirlwind of intensity. The guy was well-trained, able to predict my movements quickly, just as I was with him. I was thankful for the padding of tactical gear, each connection like a damn cement block against my body. And that was with me deflecting the blows and therefore undermining their full power.

It was a matter of stamina more than strength right now, though. Moving so rapidly using so much power took a toll and even the best, most durable and experienced fighters could only keep up that kind of pace for a few minutes at best.

Fortunately, I managed to break the standoff, sweeping my boot at his right leg, and hooking the back of his knee. His right knee gave way, but he reacted quickly, slapping his palm to the ground to keep his balance. Still, it was all the distraction I needed. As he went down, I was ready, thrusting my knee into his face. He grunted as his head snapped back. I swept my leg at him, finally forcing him to the ground.

I was all ready to deal a finishing blow when a rush of movement behind me caught my attention. I risked a look over my shoulder to see another soldier had come out of hiding.

Before I could take him on, another one burst from the foliage from the east side. Then, one from the west.

I was surrounded on all sides.

They closed in.

Well, it wasn’t the worst situation I’d been in throughout my career. But, yeah, it was up there.

I thrust my boot into the face of the guy I’d been dealing damage to earlier, knocking him out cold. The two on the east and west sides started toward me, but the third guy signaled them and they stopped short.

He broke from his position and circled me slowly, finally coming to a stop in front of me. “Shadow,” he spoke. “The boss wants a word with you.”

So that was why none of them had pulled their weapons so far, aside from that first warning shot. They intended to take me alive.

I glared at each of them in turn. “Sorry, boys, my schedule’s full.”

The one in front of me who seemed to be their commanding officer, told me snidely, “We’re about to ease the load.” He activated the radio fixed to his tactical jacket and barked, “Clean house.”

I watched in horror as a fresh wave of gray flooded the area, surging toward the house.

Thuds, exploding glass, and a cacophony of destruction and mayhem erupted as more than a dozen of them infiltrated the safehouse, heading straight for Slade and Ricky.

The shock and terror taking hold of me cost me my focus. The leader took full advantage of it, thrusting his fist into my face. I grunted as my head snapped to the side, the power behind it making me waver on my feet.

The other two soldiers were upon me in a flash, taking hold of me and forcing me onto my knees into a submissive, incapacitated position.

The leader crouched down in front of me.

I hissed at him as he reached out and traced his gloved finger down my cheek.

He grinned and grabbed my jaw painfully, forcing my eyes to his. “You come nice and easy and we won’t lay another finger on you. You go the other way and things really will not work in your favor, Miss Rose.”

They knew who I was?

It was bad enough that they knew about Shadow. But to also know my true identity? That was another level.

What the hell was going on?

“Who’s your boss?”

“I am.”

He tore off his balaclava and I had to fight to suppress a reaction.

His dirty-blond hair was a hell of a lot shorter than the shoulder-length photos of him I had in my files, the look that his late father had sported for decades. Now it was a buzzcut. Combined with the harsh angles of his facial features, it gave him a severe, dangerous edge. He ran his hand over the rough stubble plaguing his jawline, as he took in my reaction to his big reveal. Those dark eyes of his, almost completely black, drilled into mine in a hell of a creepy way.

“Blake Freeman,” I ground out.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In the fucking flesh.”

“Blood debts never end well. You need to quit while you still have the option.”

He laughed. “You think this is about some personal vendetta?”

“You hired a group of mercenaries to hunt and destroy the man who killed your father and decimated your club. What else would you call it?”

He leaned in closer and breathed at my ear, making me shudder from the closeness of it, “I’m not here for him.”

I couldn’t hide my reaction this time around and as he pulled back, self-satisfaction shone in his eyes that he’d managed to unnerve me and catch me off guard.

“Like I said earlier, we need to talk, sugar.”

“You want a word, have it now.”

“Nah,” he said, smirking. “I want more than a word and I want to give you my full, undivided attention. And, right now, with what’s going on, I’m going to be distracted. That won’t be fair to neither of