American library books » Other » RIDING DIRTY (Steel Titans MC Book 4) by Franca Storm (ebook voice reader .txt) 📕

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but they just kept coming.

I looked between Nolan and Willa.

Every cell in my body was urging me to finish him, to finally end it after all these years. But, fuck it, it was Willa.

So, I ran into the fray and beat back the onslaught, using my brute strength and the rage coursing through me to clear a path. I ripped one of the guards off her, shoving him into the wall, as I yelled over my shoulder to Willa, “Go! Go! Go!”

She took my cue and bolted along the path. I followed right behind.

We made it out through the club, the guards trailing close behind.

Willa pointed to a beat-up Sunfire, then pulled a fob from her leather jacket pocket and unlocked it. I’d taken a cab here instead of riding in with the attention-gaining roar of my bike.

As Willa jumped into the driver’s seat, I hopped in the passenger side.

Before I’d even closed the door, the car was tearing out of the club lot. “Dumbass.”

She jerked her hood back.

Piercing blue eyes stared back at me.

Silky blonde locks fell forward.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What else? Saving your life.”

Fuck.

5

~Willa~

 

ANGER REIGNED.

Slade hadn’t stopped ranting since we’d sped away from Indulge.

It had been half an hour and he still hadn’t calmed.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my pistols from my hip holsters and laid them down on the kitchen counter as I watched him pacing up and down the living room of my safehouse, muttering a slew of curses under his breath.

I shrugged off my tactical jacket and walked to the closet, sliding open the doors, then hanging it up inside. Then, I crossed to the bar in the far corner near the oak bookshelves and poured myself a glass of scotch.

I needed to take the edge off.

A close quarters fight like that really got the adrenaline pumping. My body had been wired ever since and I hadn’t been able to calm down. Normally, I could pull it off easily, automatically, even. It wasn’t like that had been my first rodeo. I was a pro at this sort of thing. And I was damn good at it. I didn’t usually need booze to help me chill and compartmentalize after a mission.

It was him.

Slade frigging Mitchell.

He was why I was still so wired and ridiculously on edge. He… did something to me. And it pissed me off more than I could quantify.

Our relationship was supposed to be strictly business. Until him, I’d never had an issue with that in the fifteen years that I’d been known as Shadow. I’d never even thought about crossing the line and mixing business with pleasure. Blurring things like that was an invitation for chaos.

But five years ago, I’d almost done just that with Slade. I’d been ready and beyond willing to go. Then he’d backpedaled. Not only that, but he’d also gone behind my back, overridden my command and my carefully constructed plan to deal with a certain target of his. It was a target that was not only still breathing, but who was causing a shitload of trouble for the both of us right fucking now. That asshole, Adrian Nolan.

Jeez. I had my hands full for sure.

I had to ignore the personal shit between me and Slade and stamp out the attraction that was threatening to boil over with every additional second I spent in close quarters with him.

The problem was that it was going to be way more than a few seconds in his presence. Days, possibly weeks, because of his actions tonight.

I had to keep the big, bad biker president far away from that sleaze ball, Adrian Nolan. There would be some severe, far-reaching consequences for what had gone down tonight, for what Slade had done. The only way to effectively numb the fallout was to change the equation. That meant taking Slade out of it, keeping him off Nolan’s radar.

He wasn’t going to react well to it.

Slade Mitchell wasn’t a guy who was used to being benched. He was always in the thick of everything, very hands-on. This would be like some form of torture to him.

He’d just have to suck it up.

It was for the greater good. His good, actually.

I was doing him a favor. When he calmed down and managed to gain some perspective, he’d see that.

I leaned against the wall and sipped from my glass of scotch as he continued to pace like a caged beast.

The minutes ticked on by with no sign of him calming.

So much for waiting it out. Enough was enough. It was time to lay down the law.

I chugged back the rest of my scotch, then slammed it down on the bar and yelled over his continued muttering of curses, “I explicitly told you not to pull something like that!”

He jolted at my vehement words and stopped pacing. A low growl left him, before he rebutted, “I ain’t one for taking orders.”

“Clearly, that’s a mistake, because I had to save your ass back there.”

“I had it handled.”

That earned a major scoff from me. “Come on.”

Clearly all the adrenaline, frustration and rage from the night had taken him over and he’d reached his tolerance. He couldn’t check it and smashed his fist into the wall and roared, “That motherfucker needed putting down!”

Thankfully, the walls weren’t the cheap drywall kind. They were cedar-lined wood that mimicked the external cedar logs of my cabin. It was located well off the beaten track, a few miles outside the city that Adrian Nolan ruled way too much of.

It was one of my many safehouses.

I could never be too careful in my line of work. It was vital to spread the risk.

“Let it go, Slade,” I said, crossing to him.

“Like hell,” he muttered.

“You had your shot and you failed.”

“Failed?”

“You made it personal. It cost you time and good sense. The truth was, that you had two minutes max to make that kill and it went way beyond that. As soon as that happened, there was no way you were pulling

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