Page 33 of Knuckles (Dragon Riders MC 4)
I shot him a look. “Could you be any ruder?”
The look Justin pinned me with sealed my mouth shut. Mostly, because he looked like he was about ready to kill someone.
“Yeah?” the bartender asked.
Justin leaned forward. “What’s the word on the street?”
The bartender slowly leaned forward. “Respect my authority, sir.”
I stepped up to the plate. “Now, you listen here. We’re trying to find some people that are incredibly close to—”
“Simone.”
“—us, so I suggest you stop giving my man attitude and start—”
“Simone!”
I jumped. “What!?”
He tugged me toward him. “We have to go.”
I shivered. “Where is everyone, JayJay?”
“You have to trust me, all right? But we have to go. Now.”
He tugged me around the bar before we made our way into a back room. That back room poured out into a hallway, and Justin quickly tugged me down it. He dug out some keys in his pocket before unlocking an office with the name “Bowser” on it, and when we stepped inside, he quickly closed the door behind me.
Then, he walked over to a computer.
“Can you talk and type?” I asked.
He started typing away. “No.”
“Well, technically you just—”
“Simone!”
I jumped. “Sorry.”
I watched the computer screen and realized what he was pulling up. Video cameras. Possibly security cameras? Some of the little square boxes had names on them, though. The Steel Tavern. The Copper Rivet.
“There,” Justin said.
I squinted as I looked down at a small square on the screen that had the caption “The Lead Pig.”
“What?” I asked.
He pointed again. “See that unmarked car?”
I paused. “Yeah, I do.”
“See that one?”
“Uh huh.”
“And that one?”
I blinked. “You don’t think…?”
Justin looked over at me. “The Feds are in town. We have to get out of here now.”
When he took my hand, this time I was prepared to run. He reached for something attached to the wall before we raced down the hallway, charging out the back door of the bar. We wrapped around and got back to his bike before we leapt back on it, speeding off down the road. And now, I understood why he wanted to stock up on gas before we left.
“Where are we going!?” I shouted as my hair flew around my face.
Justin cranked up the speed. “First, we’re picking up supplies. Then, we’re getting the hell out of here. We have an off-the-grid storage unit. We can cherry pick some stuff for ourselves there to keep us afloat for a week or so.”
“I don’t have much money on me!”
“Not necessary where we’re going!”
After about thirty minutes of driving, we pulled off the road and onto a gravel road. That soon gave way into a dirt road. I clung to JayJay for dear life as my body darted around. And by the time we pulled into a dilapidated parking lot, my tits hurt from slamming against my body so much.
“Come with me,” Justin commanded.
And I didn't hesitate to do as he said.
When we walked into the storage unit, though, it was more like walking into a miniature warehouse. Easily the side of a house in suburbia, every closet and room was stacked with everything from clothes to MRE’s to an arsenal of weapons.
“What should I grab?” I asked.
A bag hit me in the face. “Anything you can pile in that bag. That’s all the space you’ve got.”
I pulled it off me. “Are there any clothes in here?”
He pointed above him. “Upstairs, all the way down the hallway. Most of it might be too big for you, but it’s better than nothing.”
I didn’t waste any time getting up the stairs, either.
I emerged into a room that had bins upon bins of clothes in it. And I was shocked to see women’s clothes as well. I dug through the brightly colored clothes and picked out a few things for myself. Like, loose dresses I could easily run in, and flat that would be more comfortable on my feet. I snatched up a pair of flip flops and a couple pairs of shorts. Many tank tops, and a pair of sweatpants I’d have to roll down so they could fit. And after grabbing around eight outfits for myself, I made my way back downstairs.
Passing Justin on the way down.
“Ten minutes, then we’re gone. I want you to stuff as much food as you can in there and don’t worry about ammunition. I’ve got weapons and shit in my bag for us.”
I nodded. “Good. Because I don’t know shit about guns.”
“I figured!” he called out.
I turned and made my way for the kitchen and I tossed everything I could into my bag. Packages of MRE’s and powdered packets to flavor water and other liquids. There were other things I came across, too, that were odd. But I threw them in my bag anyway. Like vacuum-sealed baked beans that weren’t in a can, but rather in that plastic that people use with a personal vacuum-sealer machine. I took most of the contents of the pantry, from sealed corn and green beans to ramen noodles and rice and shoved it all into my bag. I stuffed probably three weeks’ worth of food on top of the clothes before I sat my bag down onto the floor, stepping on it to get it to zip all the way.
