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

aside from human intelligence, which I didn’t have access to right now either, seeing as though I was confined to the room alone, was technology. I assumed that they would have taken my phone, but that wasn’t the only device that could help me. I also carried a top-of-the-line portable GPS on me during every mission I undertook.

Tossing the covers off myself with my free left hand, I looked down to see that all hope was lost in that department.

The device had been zipped up securely inside the lower right side pocket of my tactical pants, and I was no longer wearing any tactical gear.

A shudder ran through me as I discovered that I’d been stripped out of my clothes. I was now decked out in a pair of black lounge pants and a matching tank top.

A sense of utter violation snaked its way through me, making me sick to my stomach. My long-honed self-preservationist instinct kicked in, transcending that awful feeling, and drowning it with fury. Powerlessness didn’t sit well with me and I wasn’t used to it. Those responsible would pay dearly.

I raged against the cuff confining me, the feeling just escalating when each violent jerk against the cuff failed to do a thing to weaken the hold it had on me.

All the emotion, stress and pain, and chaos from the last few weeks of this mission got the best of me for a moment, exploding out of me in a roar that tore through the room.

I could feel the strain my reaction was putting on my weakened body and that just served to incense me even more. “Argh!” I bellowed. “Motherfucker!”

The door flew open, startling me, and cutting through my shouts.

Blake Freeman strode on in.

That cool and collected demeanor fell to the wayside as he took me in. He couldn’t believe my reaction.

Neither could I.

I was always in control. Of myself. Of any situation I found myself in.

But, right now, I could barely control my emotions, let alone anything else. What the hell was happening to me?

“Chill, sugar. You’re not in danger. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

My eyes narrowed. “Try,” I seethed. “I’ll tear you apart.”

“Yeah, I figured that would be your reaction at first. That’s why I’ve taken precautions.” He gestured to the cuff. “You’ll be feeling a little lightheaded and weak right now too.”

“You drugged me?”

“It’s just a sedative.”

Just? “I will end you.”

He held up his hands sarcastically in mock-surrender. “Let’s keep it civilized, shall we? I only cuffed a single wrist to give you freedom to move around and I got you cleaned up and out of those bloodied and dirtied clothes so you’d wake up comfortable. If you check, you’ll also see that I had your cheek treated from the hit you took.”

“You mean the hit you delivered?” I said, reaching up and feeling a row of stitches on the afflicted area.

“You left me no choice. I had to subdue you, so I could bring you here and make you that offer I alluded to yesterday.”

Yesterday? They’d attacked in the early hours of the morning. So, I’d been out for an entire day? Shit.

“You might as well kill me now, because there’s no way I’ll work with you after what you’ve done. You—”

“Right, I blew up your safehouse and took out your client. That was just business.”

“Business?” I hissed.

He strolled over and rested his hands on the railing at the foot of the bed, as he explained, “Like I told you before, it wasn’t personal. I’m not a shortsighted fool like my old man was. I had no beef with Slade. In fact, he did me a favor by taking out Nik and ripping the Strikers apart. It was an ineffective, declining organization led by a deranged has-been that was verging on bankruptcy and ruin. Nik kept me down beneath his boot. With him and his clueless followers gone, it freed me. I was able to come out of the shadows and finally enact my plan to build a well-functioning, profitable syndicate that focused on two things: money and power. The only currencies that matter in life. Slade going after Nolan was unprecedented but very good for me, because Nolan then came to me, thinking that I had a hate on for the good ol’ Prez for what he did to the Strikers. I used that misconception to my advantage. He put me in touch with a band of guns-for-hire, all highly trained, efficient, and professional guys, and I agreed to deal with his Slade problem.”

“How did you find him?” I’d already determined it had to have been through Ricky, but I needed to know for sure, to figure out exactly how he’d done it. I needed to know exactly what I was dealing with here in Blake Freeman. You couldn’t hope to defeat an enemy without understanding how they operated.

Clearly proud of his performance and achievements thus far, he was only too happy to elaborate, telling me, “I’d been watching Rick for a while. Nik was way too arrogant and clueless to realize that his own VP was undermining a bunch of his deals and working hard to minimize the damage and brutality Nik had been carrying out in his old, demented age. I tagged him ages ago and bugged his phone too. I know all about you and him, all about The Jackals. Knowing somebody like you was out there, somebody who’d had the means to take down that cartel intrigued me, so I started looking into you. It took time, because you’re good at covering your tracks. But I got there. I know way more about you than you think.” He leaned forward against the railing, excitement emanating from him. “But, most of all, I know how fucking valuable it will be to have somebody like you on my payroll.”

Shit. The whole thing was far worse than I’d even imagined. Blake Freeman was an accomplished strategist. He was a businessman. A visionary, in fact.

But he was also twisted.

I could see it