Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
When the sled he was following took a turn onto a country road, he could pretty much guess the solo biker was headed down to West Virginia. That meant Rage needed to make sure to catch up to the fucker before crossing the Mason-Dixon line.
Ahead, he saw the perfect spot to have words with the guy: a wooded area along a quiet, winding road out in the boonies.
Rage smashed the Sonata’s gas pedal to the floor. It was time to move before he was busted tailing him. He pushed that four-cylinder engine as hard as it could go until he caught up with the man cruising along, unaware he was being stalked.
Rage rolled down the passenger side window and moved into the opposite lane so he could pull up next to the bike.
As soon as the Soul’s head turned and he noticed him, Rage jerked the wheel to the right, barely missing the fucker. That made the biker swerve, too. The sled’s rear wheel hit loose gravel, sending the biker skidding sideways.
Probably the same way they made Piper crash. Except in this case, there were no other sleds to take out.
Losing control, the Soul slid off the road and into a ditch, then the asshole went head over boots through the air and landed with a thump that even Rage could hear. He sure as fuck hoped the brush along the side of the road hadn’t cushioned his fall too much.
Rage wasn’t in the mood for a foot chase.
He quickly pulled the cage over and jumped out, rushing back to the fallen Soul.
Before the outlaw biker could even sit up, Rage kicked him in the head, knocking him out. Hard enough to disable him but not enough to kill him. Yet, anyway.
He needed to work fast before any nosy fuckers came along.
Grabbing the downed biker by the boot, Rage dragged his knocked-out ass along the rough, rocky ground and dropped him behind a thicket of tall weeds, a place where no passersby could spot them from the road.
He quickly ripped the bandana free from around the Soul’s face, rolled him over, and used it to secure the man’s wrists behind his back.
With the fear of getting caught making his blood pump rapidly, Rage rushed back to the downed sled, uprighted it, and rolled it to where its owner was taking a temporary nap.
Just as he dumped the sled out of view, the Soul was coming to.
Thank fuck.
Rage needed answers and he wasn’t going to get them if the asshole was out cold. Or dead.
Maybe pissing on his face would help bring him around faster.
But he really needed to hide Gabi’s cage first. He didn’t want anyone stopping thinking it was abandoned along the road and catching him in the act of extracting important information.
Fuck. It would’ve been easier to do this with two people. He should’ve brought along one of the prospects that worked at Heaven’s Angels.
Too fucking late now.
He glanced around for something to tie the man’s legs together so he couldn’t run. One fucking chase was enough for today.
He spotted a plastic grocery bag caught on a tree branch. Thank fuck for some littering asshole. He jogged over, grabbed it, then used it to secure the fucker’s ankles together. It didn’t need to be perfect, it only needed to hobble the son of a bitch.
As soon as that was done, Rage returned to Gabi’s cage to pull it off the road and hide it behind another small group of trees.
What a pain in the fucking ass. The situation wasn’t ideal, and he certainly didn’t have the same skills as one of the Shadows, but he couldn’t waste any more time, so it would have to do.
When he arrived back at the trussed up Soul, the fucker was finally awake.
“What the fuck?”
Rage glanced at the man’s name patch. Psycho? Did the motherfucker think he was some kind of badass?
“Who the fuck are you?”
Rage dropped a knee and a small portion of his weight on Psycho’s neck. “Your worst nightmare. You try anything fuckin’ stupid, gonna put more of my weight on your throat. Your windpipe gets crushed, then it gets fuckin’ crushed. You get to decide if you keep breathin’ or not.”
The biker must’ve liked breathing since he stilled immediately. While his expression was full of unhappy, Rage was sure as fuck his was the same.
“Got questions that need answers, so listen carefully to what I’m askin’. The sooner you gimme the answers I’m lookin’ for, the sooner you’re gonna be on your fuckin’ way.” To hell. “Ever hear of the Angels of Fury?”
“Never heard of ‘em.” Psycho failed to keep his expression neutral when he winced slightly.
That was enough of a sign to prove that the biker was bullshitting him. “The women ran off the road by three of your brothers.”