Defiance (The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 7) by K E Osborn

Author:K E Osborn [Osborn, K E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

TORQUE

I place my hands on my head and slowly edge to the floor as they all run in, one after the other, guns drawn, SWAT gear on like we’re fucking terrorists or something. It’s like a damn flash mob as they all invade my clubhouse, swarming in like a hive of bees as they rush over to their nest, raiding every nook and cranny, tearing the place apart.

I hear things breaking and club girls screaming.

One asshole cop runs toward me, and I know they mean business. He grabs my arms, hurtling me further into the floor. I groan, while trying not to resist, but every fucking thing in me wants to punch this asshole fair and square in his cock. He steps on my back pushing me face-first into the concrete as he yanks on my arm and searches for my weapon. He grabs my Glock and slides it across the floor to a waiting man, who’s collecting all our weapons, which are currently sliding toward him.

I hear a groan as I glance over to Trax who’s resisting against the guy who’s pulling his arm back a little higher than the others. His cop plants his foot near Trax’s neck, pushing hard.

Anger swarms through me as I move to get up. I push back on my guy, using all my brute strength to move him off me. He fumbles back as I stand then throw a punch into the cop’s face. I hear the crunch of his jaw as he flies to the floor, and I reach out grabbing Trax’s man and yanking him off, but he spins, landing his fist right in my eye socket making me fall to my knees, but as I try to catch my breath, something cold is pressed to my temple, and I realize it’s the tip of his rifle.

“Stop!” a familiar voice calls out, and instantly the chaos around us grinds to a halt.

The tip of the gun is withdrawn from my temple as I turn to look at the doorway to see who’s called out.

My stomach lurches into my throat as I snap my head toward Trax.

I need to keep him under control right now.

He stands as I quickly get up, staggering a little. Dammit! I think I’m concussed, but I rush to Trax’s side gripping his arm. “Play it cool, Trax.”

Trax’s lip curls up. “What are you doing here, Malcolm?”

Malcolm grins maniacally, walking in like he owns the joint. “That’s Senator Scott to you, thanks, Trax. We’re not on a first-name basis.”

Trax scoffs. “I think we’re onto nicknames. Just so you know yours is cunt bucket. So, I’ll ask again… what are you doing here, cunt bucket?”

The Senator smirks. “Oh, how I’ve missed your wit, Trax. How is Mylee doing? Or is it Sparx now? Is she well?”

Trax grunts and attempts to dart forward in a fit of rage, but I grab his arm, restraining him, though it takes all the strength I have to hold onto him.

“You don’t have any fucking right to talk about her.

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