Outlaw's Ride: An MC Romance by Carter Steele (books recommended by bts .txt) 📕

room as if he was meeting coworkers. “Had to shit. Something I ate.” With his hands acceptably dry he un-holstered his gun and pointed it at Wreck.

“Ok. Everyone just calm down. Lower the guns. We're businessmen. Let's work this out.” Wreck took advantage of the break in tension and turned his pistol up in a non-threatening way then slowly placed it on the floor. He swallowed his seething anger about his uncle and tuned his efforts to saving the rest of us. “Buck's hurt bad. We just want to get him some help.”

“Oof yeah. Looks like he needs a hospital,” Patrick feigned concern. “You want me to call an ambulance? Or I could have some of my cop buddies give you an escort?”

“...kill you...” Buck repeated it softly now like a mantra. That hatred might have been the only thing keeping him clinging to life.

“Alright, here's the offer,” Wreck started. He spoke to Patrick and to Mikhail who was slowly circling the men like a lazy shark, and occasionally glanced at me to make sure I was still alright. “This rig and trailer is worth two mil easy.”

“Wreck. This is our home, man,” Yoga leaned in to protest softly. “There's gotta be another way.”

With a mournful expression Wreck's mouth tensed into a white line as he flicked his eyes to Mac's body, then to Buck, then shook his head. Yoga followed Wreck's eye line. His wide muscular frame slouching a bit as he shouldered more and more of his brother's weight. Eventually he matched Wreck's gaze, unspoken words passed between them, and exhaled. Yoga finally understood what Wreck seemed to grasp right away.

There was no winning here. Just surviving.

“We will take it and chop it.” Mikhail scoffed as if that was already a given. His demeanor started shifting into impatience which raised the hair on the back of my neck. He was a dangerous man at the best of times...

“And at best you'll only get a few hundred grand from all the pieces on the black market and that's before shelling out for any bribes along the way,” Wreck snapped at Mikhail before settling into a calmer tone and addressing Patrick. “Everything here is above the board. Paid for in full and taxed by the government.”

“Your offer is a legal transfer so we can sell everything at full retail price?” Patrick entertained the thought as he laid his arm over my shoulders and crossed one leg, letting the gun rest on the cushion to his right side. “Interesting.”

I thought about lunging for it but it was on the other side of him and he'd easily stop me before I reached it. Instead I endured his weight which pushed in on me from two sides and bided my time. There was going to be a way for me to help Wreck even if I hadn't exactly worked out how or when yet. There had to be.

“Yes. A cold, legal million for each of you after an easy sale. We have receipts, titles, everything. Buck was meticulous about the paperwork and it's all in his name. If he dies, everything becomes more complicated and you lose a shitload of money. Let us get Buck some medical help.”

“You'll of course have to go out of state to avoid connection to tonight's mayhem,” Patrick reasoned, mulling the idea over. He furrowed his brow and worked out some of the details in his head.

Wreck had found the one way to actually reach Patrick For all his many, many faults Patrick was a businessman. When there's a large amount of money on the table he's willing to put everything else aside and close a deal. Outgunned, a negotiation might be the only way that any of us were making it out of this room alive.

“We'll have to get some transfer paperwork written up,” Patrick decided. “But I think we can come to—”

“I have counter proposal,” Mikhail frowned, coming to a complete stop behind Wreck, Yoga and Buck. He'd been slowly pacing for the entirety of Wreck and Patrick's negotiation. “ I give you bullets...”

No! I wheezed the word out soundless as I lunged forward.

Mikhail raised his gun and fired it into the side of Yoga's head. A thunderous boom rang off the walls and made my ears whine. It was even more startlingly loud than when Mac was killed. Both men crashed to the floor in a heap. Lucidity snap-returned to Buck like a shock of ice water. He crawled over his brother holding what was left of his head and openly started sobbing.

“Goddamnit, Mikhail,” Patrick shouted, grabbing and jerking me back onto the couch with him.

Wreck's eyes took on an edge I'd never seen before as he turned toward Mikhail. The Russian had retreated a few feet to keep from being rushed and had leveled his gun at Wreck. The next gunshot punched a hole right through Wreck's bicep, but did next to nothing to slow the man's approach. Mikhail as calm as a seasoned killer took a moment to line up the shot at the charging biker's head then stepped forward firing.

At that range there was no way Mikhail could miss killing him.

I was across the room and being held back by Patrick. I braced for another deafening blast of that awful pistol, but none came. All I could do was turn my head so I wouldn't have to watch Wreck—and all the hope I had left—die.

I looked up at the sound of bodies crashing together. When I saw Mikhail punch at Wreck instead of shooting him I realized his giant gun must've misfired and jammed. Luck was the only thing that saved Wreck, not me, not even his own skill or tenacity. Just luck.

Mikhail cursed at Wreck in Russian, pummeling him with the butt of the pistol. Wreck held his own in the fight, but he was weaponless and his left arm was nearly useless, bleeding badly from the gunshot. I strained against Patrick, ripping at his grip, desperately trying to get over