Page 62 of Colt

29

Colt

There were only a few minutes left before the Phantoms were supposed to meet up with the Iron Riders. We’d been given the exact location, a spot about thirty miles outside of the city, a couple of hours earlier so we could stake out the area and get into position.

As I set up next to a tree about ten yards from the abandoned warehouse where the deal was supposed to go down, I thought about how much I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible and head home. In the past, I hated leaving Jenna behind, but I didn’t feel the same bone-deep worry that I did this time leaving Ember back at the clubhouse. Part of it was because Ember was at the center of some of the problems we were facing, and I wasn’t there to keep her safe. But, mostly it was because I couldn’t stand to be away from her.

“Phantoms have been spotted two miles out. Looks like there are seven of them riding in.”

Viking’s voice in my earpiece broke me out of my thoughts about Ember, and I refocused on our mission.

So far, it appeared our intel was correct, and there weren’t any more guys than we expected. We left a couple of bikes out front to give the illusion that the Iron Riders were already here. The plan was to surround them once they entered. It would allow us to deal with them away from any passersby on the road. We hoped to handle this with as little bloodshed as possible. We didn’t need to bring any more trouble to the club, but we were heavily armed in case things got out of control.

As soon as the Phantoms got off their bikes, we had each of them in our sights. We waited for our signal and then entered through the doors and descended upon them.

“Put your weapons down!” Viking ordered.

They all hesitated to comply, but when the Phantoms saw they were outnumbered, they dropped their guns and lifted their hands to show they were cooperating.

“What do you want, Viking?” Damon, the Phantoms’ president, snarled despite the fact he had multiple guns aimed at him.

“There’s plenty I want.” Viking laughed, but it was a menacing one that caused the hairs to stand on the back of my neck, and we were on the same team. “Let’s start with the fact that we’ve given you plenty of warnings to move your operations out of Nevada. We don’t take kindly to being ignored.”

“Fuck you. You don’t control shit,” Damon spat. I had to admit the guy had balls. Getting him to back down wasn’t going to be easy. But we weren’t leaving here until we ended the Phantoms one way or another. “You can’t even control your own club. You need to be worried about people wearing the Desert Sinners patch before you worry about us.”

“That’s a pretty bold statement.” Viking sounded calm, but his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on his gun. Damon’s words rattled him more than he was going to show. “Care to elaborate?”

Just as Damon was about to respond, a single gunshot ripped through the air, and the Phantoms president dropped to the ground. I looked in the direction the bullet came from and saw Torch standing there.

The remaining Phantoms scurried to pick up their weapons and started shooting in our direction. Suddenly the doors burst open again, and a few more Phantoms rushed in. It was an ambush, and the sinking feeling in my gut told me I knew who set us up.

I took cover behind the shipping container to my left while a hailstorm of bullets rang out. I peeked around the corner and saw Torch trying to sneak out the back door. I couldn’t let him escape, so I lifted my Glock, aimed at his right knee, and took my shot.

Torch dropped to the ground, the bullet hindering him, but not killing him. We needed answers first, but I was saving a bullet for him.

As soon as the shooting stopped, I ran over to Viking. “That fucker killed Damon.”

“Go grab him. We’ll take him back to the warehouse.”

I took a quick glance around the room and was relieved that none of our men appeared to be lying on the floor next to the guys we took out. Even with their reinforcements, the Phantoms weren’t evenly matched with us.

I ran over to where Stone was now tending to Torch. Without a word, I grabbed Torch by his cut and punched him, knocking his ass out.

“What the fuck, man?” Stone yelled as he shoved me away.

“The asshole’s a fucking traitor.”

Stone looked confused, but when he saw Viking behind me, whatever words he planned to say died on his tongue. He watched as I tore Torch’s cut off him. The fucker didn’t deserve to wear our colors one second longer. We threw him in the back of the van for the drive back to Vegas. It would be the last ride he took.

Viking instructed a few guys to stay behind to deal with the cleanup and bring back the product the Phantoms left behind while the rest of us climbed on our bikes to head back to town.

* * *

It was late when we got to our own warehouse located at the far end of the Desert Sinners’ property, but we wouldn’t rest until this was finished.

Torch had woken up at some point during the drive back and started fighting with the guys in the van, causing them to knock his ass out again.

The van came to a stop, and Viper and Mac pulled Torch’s limp body out of the back. His feet dragged along the gravel as they carried him inside, blood from his knee leaving a red trail behind him. No one had bothered to tie it off. They dropped him onto the metal folding chair in the center of the large room. They secured his wrists and ankles with zip ties to ensure he wouldn’t be able to get up.