Page 83 of Fox (Road Rebels MC 4)
“You are even sexier now, Noelle,” he whispered in my ear, and I smiled. It delighted me to know that Tank was always so conscious and aware of being around Jolie. Like he was afraid that she would understand and disapprove her daddy having his hands all over her mommy.
“And I want to thank you,” I said, looking into Tank’s eyes, as his eyebrows furrowed from surprise.
“You mean for getting Jolie to sleep? You know she doesn’t throw a fuss. It was easy,” he said, rocking me as we held each other.
“Not just for that, but for everything,” I said and laid my head on his chest so that I could hear his heart beating in his chest. He was stroking my hair now.
“I am so glad that I wasn’t stupid enough to walk away from all this. I am so happy that I wasn’t scared of the unknown and I trusted in you, and my love for you,” I continued, and Tank tipped my face up so he could look into my eyes.
“I’m not sure what’s brought this on, but princess, you should never thank me for what I do. Just like you should never apologize. I fucking love you, Noelle,” he said, and we were kissing again. This time, Tank didn’t care that Jolie was in the same room.
THE END
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Kisses <3
Savannah
Turn the page for Protected by the Biker!
Protected by the Biker
by Savannah Rylan
Chapter 1
Thorn
Gun shots pierced through the quiet night making my heart start to race.
“Get cover!” Enzo hollered.
My brothers scattered, running from the shipping container that they were unloading to take cover.
Enzo was our president of the MC. He was crouched behind his Harley with two of our other members. Flashing blue lights coming from unmarked sedans were the only thing besides a few rusty lights on the edge of a warehouse that lit up the darkness.
“Put down your guns!” a voice on a megaphone yelled. “We have you surrounded.”
Enzo was yelling again at everyone, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying over the sound of bullets whizzing by me. Enzo jumped up and returned fire at the ATF agents that were coming out of the fucking woodwork.
The rest of my brothers followed suit and started firing at anything that moved. They needed to get out of there before more agents showed up. I tried my best to yell at them to leave but none of them listened to me. I felt my throat start to become raw from trying to get their attention.
I heard the sound of sirens get closer as more police officers and agents drove inot the port.
Four of my brothers decided to make a run for it, and try and hop over a nearby fence. I watched in horror as four of them were gunned down. Their bodies fell to the ground in heaps and I tried to rush over to them to help them, but my feet wouldn’t budge.
All I could do was let out a loud scream.
My body shot up from my bed with a start. Sweat covered my body and my bedsheets were kicked to the ground. I knew I was dreaming because I wasn’t there the night that my club got busted. I should have fucking been there with my brothers. More importantly, I should have looked into our Mexican contacts more. I should have realized that their deal was too good to be true. Because of my mistake, now our President, Enzo, was in jail.
The fucked-up thing was, Enzo wasn’t supposed to be there at the port either. He didn’t usually attend the collection of our gun shipments because we all knew that it was risky for the President of an MC to be there for a collection. That night, however, because we were getting a shipment from our brand-new contacts in Mexico, Enzo decided to go. He wanted to oversee it himself; especially since I wasn’t going to be there to look into it.
I had gotten shot the night before, right on my shoulder during a shootout with one of our rival clubs. The Steel Skulls had tried to raid one of our storage warehouses and steal some of our AK-47’s. The bastards had been trying to get into the gun business for months, and we had managed to lock them out of ever deal. SoCal was our fucking territory and we weren’t going to let them take it.
We defended our assets and scared the fuckers off, but not before one of them snagged me in the shoulder. The wound was nothing to worry about, the bullet just grazed my skin. I tried to convince Enzo and the boys that I was fine, but they told me that I needed at least a day to recover. Now, I wished that I hadn’t listened to them. I was blaming myself. Maybe if I was there that night, I might have been able to do something differently.
Every time I closed my eyes, I was pictured the moment that the ATF raided the port. Even though I wasn’t there, I kept imagining it in my sleep. Enzo and my brothers, going about their business, talking about what a goldmine these new contacts in Mexico were. Little did they know that all of it was a fucking set up.
I had my doubts about them from the very beginning, and I should have listened to my gut. When something seems too good to be true, it probably was.
They had been working with the ATF all along. It was a trap. We all knew that the ATF had been working hard to infiltrate our club for several months or catch us in an act that they could then hang over our heads. Raiding our se
cret port at night, in the middle of a weapon shipment being collected was ideal. They were able to arrest all the club members who were present at the time.
Thankfully, the rest of us were still free. They had no hard evidence on us, not yet anyway.
Now, four of my brothers were dead. Six of them were arrested, including Enzo. Our club was under attack, and I was sitting in my apartment, drinking endless cans of beer and watching some shit on the television. I didn’t need rest; there was nothing wrong with my shoulder. I should have been there with my brothers, putting up a defense, fighting beside them. I deserved to be in jail with the rest of them if that was our fate.
Maybe we wouldn’t have lost the four others if there were more of us on the scene.
I woke up in a cold sweat, panting.
Our club had taken a bad hit. We were without a President. Enzo was the man we all looked up to. He was our guide. He was fair and harsh, and we all respected him. Now he was sitting in prison, and there was nothing that the club could do for him to get him out.
Enzo had taken me under his wing several months ago; as the new VP and now with him gone-the natural progression was for me to take over. I didn’t know if I was ready to be the President of The Grim Reapers motorcycle club. I didn’t know if I could handle the responsibility. I was just a tough kid from a rough neighborhood who was given a break by The Grim Reapers. I didn’t know if I had any leadership skills, I didn’t know if I could replace Enzo-but what choice did I have now?
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Every night, for the past three days since the ATF busted us, had been like this. I hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since then. My mind was wrecked with thoughts of the night, what I could have done to help, what I was going to do now that I was President, what Enzo and my brothers were going to face in prison now.
