"Don’t.”
Fuck!
“Fucker, stay away from Halo because next time you won’t be so damn lucky.”
“Let’s go.”
We walk over to my bike; I get her helmet out of the saddle bag and slide it onto her head, closing the straps. I gaze into her eyes, and she’s excited but also fucking scared. I can see it; she’s nibbling her lip.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, but I’m scared that he’s going to call the po-po.”
“Don’t worry, he’s still alive, and I don’t think that he will.”
“Yeah, he is. But when he’s better, he can cause issues; I know how he is. He thinks that his daddy will take care of everything for him.”
“The bastard can’t be that stupid. Is he?”
“No. But you never know how the fucker will react tomorrow.”
“True. Let’s get gone before someone sees us.”
“Thanks for being here.”
“Baby, I love you. I’ll always be here for you,” I hum, moving my hand and wrapping it around her neck.
“I love you, Ash,” Halo whispers breathlessly.
I kiss her lips, and of course, the kiss quickly gets hot. I slide my tongue over hers, feeling my blood burn. I pull away, running my thumb over her swollen lips.
“Let’s go.”
Six months later.
Rain pours down on us, and clouds cover the moon. It’s dark, and the cold wind swirls around us.
Yeah, it sucks that it started to rain.
I ride into the warehouse parking lot with my Brothers. The Satan’s Warriors MC has a warehouse in Citrus Heights,Placerville, and Folsom, our territory. The Prez doesn’t like to keep the supply in one location by rotating where we store it.
I turn off my bike, remove my helmet, and slide off. I set the helmet on my bike and pull out my Glock from behind my back. I look around, lift my chin at my Brothers, walk to the warehouse door, and open it. I turn on the lights and walk inside with Diablo, Killer, Shade, Romeo, and Fiend. We’re the MC’s brats, so we have the extra pressure of stepping up to do it right.
The other Brothers are opening the black van to unload the boxes of ammo.
“Get the Brothers to hurry the fuck up,” I hum, walking to stand at the corner to look down the side of the building. It’s adjacent to an empty field, and it’s a good area to ambush us. It seems clear; thank fuck.
When my cell phone beeps, I pull it out of my Cut’s pocket and look at the message that pops up on the screen.
Halo ~ I’ll be waiting.
My gut twists into a knot; I ignore the text. I don’t have time for this; I can’t mess up this run.
“Hurry the fuck up,” I growl, looking around the warehouse.
My brothers are moving the large shipment of AK-15 into the warehouse.
The exchange went smoothly; thank fuck, it’s one hurdle that we jumped. The fuckers, the Bratva, are obnoxious and hard-ass bastards. The Prez doesn’t want any fucking problems with the son of bitches. It’s a relief that it went well because we’re all fucking prospects on this run. My Prez is testing us, especially me.
