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

sent scouts to make sure their shit was tight. That’s all I fuckin’ got. Do you know the Zanetti’s business when you deliver shit to them?”

Now Bones is pissed too, but his words make sense. I frown, unsure that I want to agree with anything Bones says. A Skull is a Skull, no matter if they’re patched over or not. They will never truly be Beasts.

“I would hope that Gavino would let me know if he was in the middle of a war that could jeopardize my delivery and the safety of my men,” Dragon growls.

Bones shakes his head, lifting his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. “He told me that a group was trying to get in on his shit. Just said that. Don’t know what you think it means, but he didn’t hide anything.”

“But you did,” Silver points out. “We came into this shit blind, we trusted you.”

We’re all quiet for another moment and even the gunfire ceases. That is, right before it starts up again. When it does, I jump because it’s fucking right in front of us. We all take our personal guns out of their holsters, at least those of us who hadn’t done it already.

“Fuck this. I’m going out there shooting and I don’t give a fuck who I hit,” Mountain snaps.

He starts to move from behind the truck when one of the men rounds the truck. We don’t know if he’s friend or foe. Bones is the only one who knows dick about this club. We all lift our weapons and Bones walks through us to get to him.

“He’s who ordered the guns,” Bones shouts.

The Skulls lower their weapons, but none of us do. Fuck that. I’ll lower my gun when I’m dead. These fucks are up to something, and I don’t trust a single fucking one of them. I know what untrustworthy looks like. I used to be the spitting image of it and I see all of it reflected in the eyes of this stranger looking directly at us.

“What the fuck?” Bones demands.

The guy looks from Bones to us and frowns. I don’t care if he doesn’t appreciate having a dozen guns pointed at his face, he can fuck right the fuck off.

“We didn’t know they were going to start shit this soon,” he says, his tone pleading.

I would have a pleading tone too if I wanted a bunch of people to believe me. Too bad, I don’t believe a fucking thing. I don’t believe anything anyone says at this point, not in this situation. Bones shakes his head, but I can’t see his face, so I have no clue what he could be thinking.

“This doesn’t look good for you or anyone else. Brother, we cannot hang out in the middle of a gunfight. My men, my associates, are not going to prison because of your drama.”

“I need you guys,” he practically whimpers.

The gunfire gets closer and I know it’s do-or-die time. There isn’t going to be any way out of this. We’re going to have to fight our way out and hopefully we don’t all end up in goddamn prison.

Chapter Thirty-Five

JAGUAR

Coyote jumps up on the end of the truck and unlocks the back. Rolling the door up, he turns to us and starts throwing out guns. Thank fuck they’re preloaded or we would be fucked as shit.

Wordlessly, we arm up, then turn to the guy who was supposed to buy all this shit from us. He is watching, his eyes wide as he stares at us.

“You don’t get shit, but you’re still going to give us our money,” Dragon announces.

He blinks, then opens his mouth, but it’s Bones who decides to step forward. “You fucked us. You could have called us, but you fucked us. You’re going to pay us or we’ll just finish the fucking job and both clubs will be eradicated.”

For the first time, maybe ever since knowing him, I completely respect Bones—at least in this situation. The other man, I don’t even know him or his club’s name, jerks his chin, but doesn’t say he doesn’t agree to the terms.

Maybe he thinks that we’ll go soft, let him off after the smoke clears, but we won’t.

That’s not how we do shit.

We go full force. Coyote and Silver stay back to guard the truck full of loaded firearms.

With our guns ready, we do what we always do—we take care of goddamn business.

PAMELA

As the hours pass by, Gisele and I pace. She keeps her phone clutched tightly in her palm and I keep my thumb firmly in my mouth as I bite my nail. I don’t know what to expect, or what is truly going on. I want to cry, but at the same time, I can’t. I feel completely and totally emotionally drained.

When Gisele’s phone finally rings, we both scream as she throws the phone across the room, then as if we’re on a television show, we dive for the device. I grab it first, then toss it gently to her. I watch as her shaky finger slides across the screen, then she touches something and a voice comes from the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Coen,” she cries after hearing his voice.

I watch as tears instantly fill her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She doesn’t even try to wipe them away, though it would do no good because more would just fall, they are coming in a steady stream.

“I’m okay,” he says, his voice scratchy and husky.

He doesn’t sound okay. Not at fucking all. She doesn’t say that though. Instead, she asks him what’s going on and he naturally tells her that it’s club business, but that he’s okay and they’ll be home later tonight.

“Tonight?” she screeches.

I lick my lips, wanting to ask about Dylan, but decide against it. This is her moment, and I doubt she remembers that I’m even in the room right now.

Then as if she realizes that I’m thinking about myself, about Dylan, her body jerks and she turns to look at