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Disgust was instant. “Why not have a prospect drive the truck?” Anytime I wasn’t on a bike I was unhappy. Well, except when I was riding shotgun with a sexy siren. I realized how ungrateful I sounded as soon as I said it. I was new here, I didn’t have a right to argue. But the words were already out there.
“None available,” Vesper said. He leaned back on the rear legs of his chair and snagged a set of keys hanging off a hook. He tossed them at me.
Catching them one handed, I sighed inwardly. The truck it was. “When we going?”
“Now.” Cyclone stood up and stalked out of the room.
Shrugging, I nodded to the rest of the officers who were watching with grins on their faces. This was absolutely a test. Vesper had just given us his crankiest biker to complete a mission with so he could see how we handled ourselves.
Little did he know Drew and I had a way of pissing off grumpy men. We’d had plenty of practice with it in our old chapter and it was something we not only enjoyed, but excelled in. Cyclone would be the one to regret getting chosen for this particular challenge. Not us. I’d make sure of it.
A feral grin spread over my face and I gave Vesper a wink before we walked out. The resulting scowl on his face made me chuckle.
I checked my watch and fought down the impatience that was rising inside of me.
“Got somewhere to be, Pretty Boy?”
Pretty Boy?
I looked over at Cyclone and conceded that compared to him I probably was pretty. He had dark hair, a deep tan, was covered in tattoos and he had a wicked scar that marred his cheek. It slashed down from the temple to the tip of his lip.
“Sure do,” I told him, tone pleasant.
“That happen to be that sweet young thing that slipped out of the clubhouse this morning?”
Gritting my teeth, I fought back the urge to snarl at him. He was just trying to get me to react. “That’s the one.”
He grunted, his eyes scanning the dock, waiting on some kind of signal. He hadn’t shared anything with us, so we just leaned against the truck and waited. Daytime pickups were always a bit nerve wracking.
“What are we picking up?” Drew asked, changing the subject. He probably noticed the vein in my temple popping out. It tended to do that when I was gritting my teeth. Both were a clear indication of when I was pissed.
Cyclone’s eyes slid over to us. “Doesn’t matter.”
I bit back a smile. He wasn’t one for talking…or trust. It didn’t matter. Vesper asked us to help, so we would.
Finally, Cy stiffened next to us. A truck pulled up beside us. Two men got out, their eyes shifting around the area as they stepped out.
These were definitely who we were waiting on. I sat back, silently listening as Cy bargained with them. After the arrangements were made, Drew and I got to work unloading the crates from the back of their truck into ours.
They kept speaking with Cyclone. Fine by me. I had a habit of pissing people off when I spoke. I found it hilarious, and by default ended up making things worse over ninety percent of the time.
Since I didn’t know who these men were, or what the stakes of this meeting entailed, I opted to keep my mouth shut for once. We finished loading up and Cyclone and the men shook hands before they left.
“Let’s go,” Cy growled and got onto his motorcycle.
“That was easy enough,” Drew remarked as I pulled out behind Cyclone.
The dark look I shot at him was punctuated with bullets hitting the side of the truck and my window shattering. “This is your fault, you asshole,” I snarled at him as I swerved the truck, trying to throw off the aim of whoever was shooting at us. “Is it those dickheads from the dock?” I asked, wondering if they’d changed their mind.
He turned and studied whoever was following us. “No. Two SUVs. Black with dark tint.”
“Shit,” I said as I watched Cyclone turn around to look at us. He lifted a hand as though to say ‘what the fuck?’ As if I knew. I threw my hand up to say ‘wasn’t me’.
The back window shattered, sending glass raining down over us as someone in the forward SUV shot again.
Stomping on the gas, I swerved into the turn lane, cutting off another car. Its horn blared angrily as I took the turn onto the freeway ramp at high speed. I swear the front tire came off the ground.
A manic grin spread over my face while the adrenaline dump forced my heart rate up. As fucked up as it was, I was enjoying this. It’s why, despite losing Lucy, I had been smiling the whole way down. I was right on the edge; I was loving it.
