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“Get in,” Lucas shoved them in the back and took off.
“Get down.” Rose shoved Franny down onto the floor of the backseat.
“My ring is in my pocket,” Franny whispered. “There is a tracker under the diamond. Tank insisted. If something happens to me, make sure you take my ring.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you or me. We are going to get out of this.”
Shots rang out around them, tinging off the vehicle.
“They are shooting at us,” Lucas cried in disbelief.
“What did you think was going to happen?” Rose shouted. “You forced us to come with you. They aren’t going to let you just drive away. If that was your plan, I sure as hell hope the rest of it is better.”
Lucas fired back toward the clubhouse as he raced away. When the pistol was empty, he tossed the empty clip and slid a full one in its place. Lucas slid it into the holster on his thigh instead of firing back. When he grabbed his phone, Rose knew it was about to get worse. This was her chance to stop everything before Lucas’s dumbass plan got them all killed.
“Now,” he ordered.
Rose was reaching for the gun when the house they were in exploded. Men scattered, calling their names. A sinking feeling settled over her. She had to act fast, or Lucas would haul them away. The shots stopped. They were getting too far away to be in range. It was now or be lost in the middle of the desert with her off-the-rails brother and his delusional friends.
She caught Franny’s attention and leaned her head toward Lucas. Franny nodded. The best plan she could come up with was to overpower him. Two-on-one weren’t bad odds, even if the one took leave of his senses and had a gun.
It was hard to balance bouncing along the rugged terrain. Rose got to her knees and slid onto the seat. Lucas was more worried about followers than he was about his prisoners. It was a good thing he was cocky enough to think they would come along without a fight. She wasn’t equipped for stealth, but she was pissed. Pissed trumped stealth. At least, Rose hoped it would.
Lunging forward, Rose locked her hands around Lucas’s neck. His hands waved wildly, nearly landing a punch to her face as he tried to free himself. Franny reached for his gun, but Lucas’ wildly flailing arm clocked her, knocking her backward. Rose squeezed tighter, ignoring their struggle. His face was red, quickly headed toward purple.
Lucas reached for his holster. He got one shot off before Rose added more pressure. It missed her, but Rose heard Franny grunt in pain. Her hands shook under the strain. It was hard to keep them locked around his neck as they flew down a rutted path away from the compound. Lucas fought back, but Rose refused to let go. The side-by-side swerved, kicking up the red dirt. Rose’s eyes stung, and it was hard to breathe in the growing cloud of dust.
She chanced a glance at Franny. The other woman was holding her side. Blood seeped between her fingers. Lucas’ fist caught her by surprise before Rose could force her hands tighter around her brother’s neck. Pain exploded in her temple. She didn’t have time to recover before he hit her with the gun. Her vision clouded, and the darkness drug her under. Rose heard Franny calling for her before everything went black.
Chapter 18
“They got away,” Vulture reported.
“Side-by-side headed southwest,” Roach added. “One man. Blonde, average height, and beat to hell.”
“Twenty-five men and one asshole just strolled up and snatched our women. His men surrounded the place with gunfire, and not one of our cameras picked it up,” Tank roared. “I want everyone in the clubhouse. We need to find out who has them. I’m tired of these mother fuckers toying with us. No more of this bullshit. No one messes with old ladies and lives. I want them all dead.”
“Lucas was the driver,” Warren ground out. “We need to find out who had enough shit on him to get him to leave the safe house.”
“This is his last day breathing.”
“If Rose doesn’t kill him herself, I will.”
Roach let out a grunt.
“Do it again, and you’re next,” Warren warned.
Warren stood beside Tank and Vulture, glaring at Roach. Tank was too busy eyeing each man wearing the Scorpion Warrior cut as they entered the building to notice he was about to lose a member. Roach held up his hands in surrender and stomped inside the clubhouse.
“Follow him,” Warren commanded low enough for only Brooks to hear. His partner nodded and followed the man who was a little too interested in Warren’s wife for his comfort.
It was time to take out the man who had been a pain in both their asses for the past year. There was nothing that could be done about the house. The pile of rubble could be cleaned up later. Right now, oh right now, it was time to extract some answers. One of the men inside was a rat. The rage that bubbled inside Warren demanded blood.
“One of our own,” Tank fumed.
“Time to find them,” Vulture said evenly.
“They die,” Warren finished.
