Alluring Allies by Elizabeth Knox (inspirational books for women .TXT) 📕

go the fuck away and wash my sins away before they did it for me.” By the time she gets through, she’s shaking at the threat she’d received. “I don’t know what they meant, but I don’t want to know. It gave me a weird feeling.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Nerd, go check the security cameras to see what you can find on them. We need to talk to the rest of the girls to see if they heard anything. Make sure no one’s missing,” I state, slamming the gavel down and storm out of the room.

Grabbing my phone, I pull up a number I didn’t intend to use this soon.

Pressing send, I wait for her to answer. “What do you want, Stoney?”

“Looks like you best get your ass down here, Sugar. Got something you're gonna wanna see for yourself,” I growl into the phone.

“Got it. I’ll be there in twelve or so hours,” she says before hanging up on me.

Fuck, guess we’ll be putting this alliance to the test.

Chapter Six

Boss

In all my time making long trips, I’ve never taken a straight shot from one city to the next. Queens to Stonewall Mills is a little over seven hours away, but with the D.C. traffic it added two hours onto our trip. That even gave me a couple hours to spare in the twelve-hour window I gave Stoney earlier today.

I didn’t tell Stoney, but I never planned on coming alone. If I did, Omen would’ve lost his shit on me. He always makes it a point to reiterate that it’s dumb for us to both be at the same place, at the same time, whenever we’re out on runs together. Almost like he thinks I’m not the Prez or some shit. Even now, I can’t help but roll my eyes. I decided to take Ricochet with me since he’s already on good terms with the Devil’s Riot MC, and Venom because she’s observant as fuck and can spot something shady from a mile away. It’s part of the reason I like her so much.

Stoney had texted me the address to his club so we went straight there. The only downside is I just got back to the club and sat my ass down when Stoney called me.

We head down a long, dirt road with trees lining both sides. After a five-minute drive, we’re still not near the clubhouse and we all come to a stop. Venom tears off her helmet. “Are we even close?”

“This is the address he gave me,” I declare after taking my own helmet off. I scan my eyes along past the trees and look as far as the eye can see, but the only thing in my view is more trees. I slide my helmet back on and continue onward. Within a moment, I hear Venom and Ricochet following suit. It must be two miles down the road when we come to a clearing where the dirt road spans off to the left and right with a structure in the center.

I can spot some bikes parked out front and see trucks parked off to the side. As we grow closer I can see the amber colored bricks with aged cream grout. Whenever I’ve gone to clubs outside of the city, they always have some sort of porch with a recreational area for the guys to shoot the shit, but not here. Instead there’s a large wooden door with a couple windows by it. Honestly, it looks like a creepy house in the middle of nowhere, but I know better.

Before we’re even off our bikes, a couple guys come through the doors. I don’t know any of them and am surprised to see Stoney isn’t with them. One guy whose patch I can’t read from this far away comes strutting up. He’s a scrawny, beady-eyed lookin’ fucker who reminds me of a naked mole rat. But as he grows closer, I can read the name ‘Mikey’. He snickers lowly, dragging his hand across his jaw, and looks to Venom and I as we place our helmets on our handlebars. “My, my, what beautiful clubwhores we have here.” He walks right over to Venom, places his hand on her shoulder, and I see the way her eyes flicker with anger. “I can’t wait to have the time of my life with you tonight, baby.”

Shit, he’s gonna regret saying that. Venom grabs the hand that’s on her shoulder, twists it back, and within a minute I hear a loud pop followed by screams you swear were from a woman. “Fuck, did you just break my arm?” he screams at her, only getting a smirk from Venom.

She shrugs, “I dunno. Maybe you should go see a doc.”

A man comes up from the group with shoulder-length dark hair and kind eyes. “I’m sorry for his disrespect, Boss. I’m Tracker.” This Tracker fella extends his hand and I shake it. “Now, would you mind letting me know if this dipshit has a broken bone?”

Venom snickers, “It isn’t broken. The big baby just thinks it is. It’s dislocated, but don’t ask me to fix it.”

“She can fix it?” he asks, raising a brow.

I nod.

The door to the Devil’s Riot MC clubhouse comes swinging open with a woman venturing through the door. She appears to be in her mid-forties or so, if I had to guess, with sandy blonde hair that has black underneath. Her eyebrows are thick, giving me the impression she really cares about her appearance, and as she grows closer I can see my thoughts are correct. She has impeccable artwork on her shoulder, spanning down to her hand. Being in this lifestyle, I see lots of ink, but the shading on her is unlike anything else my eyes have ever landed on.

“What the hell is goin’ on here? I heard a woman scream,” the woman retorts.

“That was Mikey,” Tracker chuckles lowly, quickly recovering.

Her eyes shift over to the scrawny guy and I can tell she mutters something under