UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8) by Hayley Faiman (e book reader pc txt) 📕

not to laugh at her words as she scrolls through her phone. When she finds the name that she’s looking for, instead of placing the phone at her ear, she puts it on speaker. I could kiss the woman.

“You shouldn’t be calling,” he says as his greeting.

Gisele laughs softly. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

“We?”

“I’m with her. It’s Pamela,” I offer so that he doesn’t think that there is a problem.

“Doesn’t matter. You girls stay where you are.”

We’re quiet for a moment, our eyes finding one another’s, and we both blink. “Do we need to be in the safe room?” Gisele asks, her soft sweetness now gone, and a determined, strong woman in charge takes its place.

“Not yet,” he says ominously.

“Worm,” she demands.

“When I know more, I’ll have someone call you.”

Something shifts in her gaze and I watch as her hands start to tremble. “Is Coen okay?” she asks on an exhale.

“He’s fine.”

The call ends with that and we’re left staring at one another with wide eyes. Gisele is trembling just as much as I am. Something happened, but he’s not telling us. That means it’s much bigger than we could probably even imagine let alone guess.

“What the fuck?” I ask, unable to stay quiet and stare at Gisele a moment longer.

She shakes her head and opens her mouth just as the kitchen timer goes off. “Cookies are done. Let’s get those out of the oven, then we’ll make some calls.”

“Are you worried?” I ask.

She nods her head but doesn’t verbally say anything. I decide not voicing our concerns and worries is the way to go. I stay quiet as well. Following her orders, I don’t even pay attention to what I’m doing. I take the cookies off of the heavy stone with a spatula and place them on the rack.

“What now?” I ask, trying not to sound demanding, but knowing that I fail completely.

Gisele’s torso jerks and she looks up to me, her phone clutched in her hand. She clears her throat, then shifts her attention back to her phone and I hear it ringing again. I don’t know who she’s calling, but whoever it is, she has faith that they’re going to know something.

“Hello?” a female voice answers.

“What is going on?” Gisele demands.

There is a moment of silence, and I hold my breath waiting for whatever is going to happen next, whatever this person is going to say. Then whatever that news is going to do to me. I have a feeling that it’s going to affect all of us.

Every single one of us.

It’s just this gut-wrenching, churning, squeezing feeling inside of me.

My body physically hurts.

“I don’t know, but I was told to stay home, not go anywhere at all. I’m really worried. I’ve texted Silver a few times and there’s been no response. I looked at his location and he’s outside of Albuquerque.”

“He lets you track him?” Gisele asks, her voice full of awe.

Presley laughs. “Only since he was shot. It’s a new thing, but I’m not mad about it at all. I’m happy I can ease my peace of mind and know where he is, at least I was.”

“Shit,” I hiss. “I think something is wrong.”

“Me too,” Presley says at the same time Gisele says the exact same thing.

“What do we do?” Gisele asks.

There is a long moment of silence, then Presley lets out a sigh. “Nothing,” she murmurs. “We wait. I have a feeling whatever is happening there, if we show up it would make everything ten times worse.”

“I was afraid you would say that. I still want to know that Dylan is okay,” I mutter.

“I know, babe,” she says softly and she means it.

We end the call, then stare at the warm, freshly baked cookies and reach for one. Once the soft cookie hits my tongue, I can’t help but moan.

A sense of pride fills me.

I made this.

For just a moment, I’m comforted and I realize that this is why people talk about comfort food. I’ve never understood it until this moment, mostly because nothing in my life has ever felt comfortable—not until now.

JAGUAR

Bullets fly.

It’s a full-on fucking war zone. Except as I look around, I realize that we aren’t the target. Not the way I thought originally. I watch as everyone scrambles to take cover behind the truck. I’m the last to arrive. Silver is grinding his teeth together, holding his arm against his chest.

“Probably gonna need the doc. I think I tore some shit on the inside. I’m not one hundred percent yet,” he announces.

Fuck.

Our bikes litter the highway and I wonder when the cops will get here to start shooting and arresting people. Because there is no way in fuck this shit is going to go down quietly without some type of law enforcement involvement.

“They aren’t shooting at us,” I say, announcing the obvious.

The sounds of the gunfire popping in the distance doesn’t even make me jump. However, I’m worried about what the fuck the Skulls brought us into. I don’t say anything though, it’s not my fucking business, not yet at least.

“I don’t know that other group,” Bones states.

Dragon growls. “You brought us into a literal fucking gunfight. Explain this shit,” he demands.

Bones looks down at his shoes, spitting on the asphalt before he lifts his gaze to meet ours. “They wanted guns for a reason.”

He doesn’t elaborate and we all stare at him, waiting for him to continue. It takes him a few beats before he decides to enlighten us further.

“This club has been trying to intimidate them into leaving and giving up their territory. They don’t want to do that.”

“Who gives a fuck, why are we in the middle of a goddamn gunfight,” I shout, unable to stay quiet a second longer.

Everyone looks over at me for a second, then shifts their attention back to Bones. “Not a bad question,” Dragon says, his voice eerily calm and I know he’s close to losing his own shit.

“I don’t know about their shit. They wanted guns, I