Page 179 of Tease Me


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I climbed over the seat again. “Roll down the back window.”

He did, and I aimed. “Floor it.”

Thank fuck he took orders well.

Shots rang out, some pinging off the Bronco. I aimed and fired at where I thought a rider would be. Missed. I fired again as we sped past. One of the taillights toppled, and I heard a grunt in the darkness. My third shot went wide again. The group of bikes turned, four headlights now following the Bronco.

“Keep the fucking pedal to the floor.”

“Gotcha.”

“How far are we from town?” I climbed back into the front seat.

“Coupla miles.”

Good. We had a head start, so I could hope we’d make it to the other side of town before they caught us. I grabbed Cook’s phone again, punched in his code, and hit redial.

“Angel?” I said when my second in command answered.

“Yeah, boss?” he replied as if he were bored. He’d better be on the fucking road.

“Where are you?”

“At the exit from ten. Stopped for gas.”

Good, they were only about fifteen minutes north of town. I glanced backward. “How many you got?”

“Sixteen.”

“Ride south. We’re about two miles south of Park Ridge heading north, so we’ll meet you on the road. We got a tail. Four with guns. We’re in the Bronco.”

“You got it.”

“After you take care of the tail, head to the north side of town. Building’s on the right. Old gas station, now a repair shop with a gray facade.

The outskirts of Park Ridge were little more than a pothole in the road. Cook kept the pedal down, speeding north as fast as possible. We drove for ten minutes before I saw headlights flicker in the distance.

“Cook, keep straight, then cut the lights and engine as you reach Bou’s shop and glide in around the far side.”

Cook—a good soldier, I was learning—did precisely as I instructed. Headlights sped by, blinding in the night. More shots rang out in the darkness among the engine sounds as Cook cut the power to the Bronco. We coasted up Highway 2, almost to the shop, slowing, but not enough. I looked back. A herd of headlights had turned and were now headed our way.

“Gotta brake.”

“Go ahead.”

The taillights glowed momentarily, then flicked out as we coasted off the road and around the north side of the shop. Turning the wheel at the end, Celt also pulled on the emergency brake, and the Bronco tipped and rocked as if it wanted to roll but came to a rest as the parking brake locked into place. I hopped out just in time to watch two taillights speed north up the highway.

A rumble and flood of lights surrounded us. Angel hopped off his bike. Black hair glistening in the moonlight, he hurried over to where I stood at the Bronco. We locked forearms and jerked each other closer. I’d never been so happy to see a motherfucker in my life.

39

Bou

Still tied to the chair, I drifted off several times, but my head bobbed, rattling me regularly back to consciousness. Sometime in the night, the music in the other room finally stopped thumping. It seemed like everyone had either passed out or possibly found a whore to pair off with for the night and a music app had timed out rather than anyone stopping it consciously. At least that’s what often happened at the parties in the hills. Why would this be any different? It seemed to have turned into a party after all, and Rex had invited the fucking Mexican Mafia into my town—something Pops had never done in all the years he led the rats in The Ridge MC.

Celt had been right. Rex had to die for his betrayal of not only us, but of our town’s entire way of life. But in that room, I sat tied to the chair and Celt lay bound to the bed. No words sprang to life between us. He wouldn’t talk when I had tried to coax him, wouldn’t even look at me for the shame he felt—a shame I’d known once. The same humiliation Wilde had recently helped me past.

Somewhere inside my brother’s battered body, Celt—the strong and protective, larger-than-life, red-headed and hot-blooded Irishman, my big brother who loved The Ridge—still thrived. I knew this because of the way he fought to get to me, to try and protect me when Rex had turned his attention my way. I grasped onto that nugget of hope. Somebody had to hold on. We’d come through that pain, and we’d heal. We would not be victims. I had to believe, to keep some little bit of sanity for both our sakes.

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