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23
Storm
We were in position at Johnson’s Organic Farm. Ready to storm the grounds and rescue Madeline and the others.
I drew my forty-five as we crept toward the silo. Beads of sweat dripped down my temples, hands slick and sticky as my heart raced with anticipation. I was so damn nervous.
Eighteen bikers surrounded the hobby farm, which had been part of a large-scale operation back in the day. Two silos separated the outbuildings and the corn crops. We were fortunate it wasn’t something short like soybeans. The corn was tall enough to hide us as we moved through it.
We divided into three groups of six. Miguel and his men were with me, Boxer and Track coming from the south side. My dad and his crew took the east side with Lynx. The last group led by Raul, Justin, and Ire had the north side with brothers from my club.
This many men could have been overkill. The Knights had already taken out six Hunters, but we had no clue how many there were. Throw a dirty deputy into the mix; I wasn’t sure what we were walking into.
All I knew was I couldn’t take another second without my Angel. I was weak without her. Dead inside. Soulless.
If Deputy fuckin’ Miller and any other law enforcement from Winters was here, Sheriff Hendrick’s and his men would handle it. They were driving onto the farm.
“There.” Boxer pointed as we looked through binoculars.
From my vantage point, I watched three Hunters run toward the silos. I couldn’t tell which one they went to. Without wasting another second, I gave the command to move into my earpiece.
Boxer led our group, gun drawn. My heart pumped like an oil rig with such force I might explode. Everyone had orders to only shoot and kill if shot at first. I didn’t want a bloodbath. But I also wasn’t going to let these fuckers live.
We rounded the perimeter of the silo closest to us. I dialed in to what I thought was a woman sobbing. Silos were made of steel, so I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined the cries.
“The three maggots entered the can closest to us,” came Raul’s voice in my earpiece.
“We got the other,” I replied.
As we turned the corner, Boxer’s hand went up, stopping us. He didn’t hesitate to take out the Hunter. Even with a silencer on his gun, the whizzing sound was heard. The piece of shit made a loud grunt, hitting the dirt.
“What the fuck?” was shouted from inside the structure.
“Move,” I hissed.
The metal door swung open as Deputy Miller rushed out, gun drawn. Boxer had the gun knocked out of Miller’s hands and handcuffed him before the sonofabitch could react. The sight of his pants, opened at the fly, had me reeling. I’d deal with Miller later.
Miguel and I barreled into the silo with Track behind us. My eyes instantly landed on my Angel, on her knees in only a bra and panties. Our eyes connected and my heart died when I noticed the dirty fucker holding a gun to her head.
“There are only three,” Track muttered from behind. “I’ve got the left.”
“I have dead center,” Miguel shouted, referring to the Hunter’s prez, Dawg.
I flicked my eyes to the right where Emilee was sobbing.
“Found me did you, ese?” Dawg rasped. He used Madeline as a human shield.
“Let her go, Diego. I might let you live.” Miguel slowly stepped forward. He wanted the prez, and I’d told him he could have him. Now I wished I hadn’t. “Tell your men to stand down.”
Dawg sneered. “Take them out. I don’t give a fuck about them.”
The guy I had my gun on whipped his head towardDiego.
“What the fuck, Prez?” the Hunter protested.
Yeah, his prez didn’t acknowledge him. Nor did he give a shit about anyone else but himself. The boy was smart and laid his gun on the ground, kicking it toward me. He raised his hands in surrender. Good boy.
I pushed the piece behind me, keeping mine on him.
