AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her tormentor was stabbed. Bleeding out.
No, he was already dead. Judging by the position of that blade, no medics or surgeons could save him.
Her gaze flew to the biker’s.
He stared back at her. “Well, this complicates things.”
Chapter Three
The Harley’s engine growled, the headlights cutting through the dark streets. The cool wind ruffled Jennings’s hair.
His momma would give him the sharp edge of her tongue if she knew he was riding without a helmet. Or maybe she’d be glad she raised him to be a gentleman who gave up his own helmet for the woman seated on the back of his bike.
Hell, he didn’t even know her name. But the feel of her pressed against him, her arms circling his waist, was now burned into his psyche. Every turn they made, every mile they rode, he learned more about the woman.
She didn’t need to speak for him to know that she was broken—and fighting it. The fire in her eyes contrasted the dark rings of fatigue beneath them. The proud tilt of her chin told her that while an asshole might try to drag her away by her hair, she wouldn’t have put up with it for more than a few steps.
But she didn’t need to worry about how to break free anymore.
Jennings had handled matters for her.
Now they had a body to deal with. Lexis would be pissed. His brother Julius would give him hell for it.
What went down next probably scared the woman gripping him hard around the turns most of all. Jennings told her to sit down and wait for him. Then he returned to Bones and told him that Viper bugged out.
“Good. I don’t fully trust that asshole.” Bones twitched his head at Jennings, and they went out to the hearses they’d loaded the coffins into. With each behind the wheel, they drove to a cemetery. Rather than the small-town church cemetery where parishioners went to their resting places, they went to a big one in the next town.
Bones told him it kept the cops off their asses, and after what he saw next, he understood why the cops hadn’t caught on to their scheme.
They delivered the goods to a mausoleum. In a hearse. At night. Several trucks were parked in the lot, all of them with logos for a landscaping service. Each truck hauled lawnmowers and tools for keeping the cemetery looking neat. In the winter, they would have snowblowers.
When he walked by one parked truck, he glanced in the bed. Big tool chests would be the perfect spot to transfer the drugs. Most of the vehicles were empty, but he recognized a guy from the club. Even dressed as a groundskeeper, he stuck out as one of the Disciples.
Sure enough, they unloaded the contents of the coffins into the mausoleum drawers. He guessed that the goods were then transported to various spots in the area via those trucks.
After that, he told Bones to drop him at the club so he could grab his bike. Then he took the route back to the church—and the woman waiting for him—at high speed.
With her safe for the moment, Jennings took a detour on a longer route through the city just to check something out. If his hunch was right, he’d see at least one of those trucks parked at the Shadowlands bar.
Sure enough, a landscaping truck was parked in the lot. And he’d lay down his hefty savings that the driver didn’t stop off for a beer.
When they took the last turn that led to the building temporarily serving as Sentry headquarters, the woman tightened her hold on him. The urge to cover her arm with his hand and soothe her worries away swelled in his chest. He didn’t act on it.
A minute later, he rolled into the parking lot. Gravel crunched under the tires. After he parked, he twisted his head to speak to his rider. “You can get off.”
She hesitated for a minute. Then very slowly swung her leg over the bike. After he dismounted too, he held out his hand. “I’ll take the helmet.”
Wordlessly, she unfastened the strap and removed the headgear. She held it out to him, and he hung it on the handlebar for the next ride.
There weren’t any security lights out here, and that meant he had to look harder at her in order to see what she was thinking or feeling about being in an unknown place with a complete stranger.
“I don’t even know your name,” he said quietly.
“It’s Wren.”
He nodded. “I’m Jennings. Come inside. And let me do the talking.”
“I have no intention of speaking to anyone in there.”
