Running Blind by SE Jakes

Author:SE Jakes [Jakes, SE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2018-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

Sweet knew Bam was strong, but he’d underestimated how fast Bram would bounce back from the drugging . . . and also underestimated that Bram would have the criminal side down pat as well, because the gun he held was Sweet’s own.

And, in his other hand, Bram held Sweet’s knife . . . and cell phone. Fucking pickpocket, just like his brother. “You prepared to kill me, Bram?”

Bram motioned for him to turn around without answering, and Sweet decided it was safer for everyone involved to go along quietly. Maybe the Heathens wouldn’t kill Bram if Sweet was with him.

Maybe.

Bram slid cold steel cuffs around Sweet’s wrists, closing them with an authoritative, definitive click.

“Is this necessary?” Sweet kept his tone purposely bored.

Bram grabbed him around the neck in a chokehold that Sweet wasn’t sure he could get out of even if he hadn’t been wearing cuffs. The hold was half strangulation, pure submission-forcing, and he allowed Bram to shove him forward, his steps shortened because of the hold and the gun at his carotid.

Gypsy saw them first, and then Tug and Ozzie were running over, pointing weapons of their own.

“Stand down,” Sweet managed thickly. He saw other members approaching. “Don’t stop him—let Bram’s truck off the property.”

Gypsy shook his head but Bram interjected, “I’ll kill him. I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m a dead man either way—the only question is whether I take your boss with me.”

Bram did have something to lose—Linc. But he’d sounded convincing and he was coming off the drugs. Sweet was a good judge of character, but something inside of Bram had snapped with Sweet’s threats. No matter which way Sweet played this, he’d have lost.

“Stand down,” Sweet ordered. “I’m going with him. That’s it.”

Bram shoved him into the passenger’s seat of his truck, then climbed through the back seat to get to the driver’s side, holding the gun on Sweet the entire time. Sweet noticed that his members had guns trained on the truck—Bram’s didn’t have the bulletproof windshield that Sweet’s did. But Sweet shook his head and no one fired.

When he started the truck, Bram also reached over and quickly duct-taped Sweet’s upper body to the back of the seat.

“Not necessary,” he told Bram.

“Shut up.” Bram floored the truck, nearly taking out anyone in his path. As they went down the hill, Sweet held his breath.

At times, these hills around Havoc had a mind of their own. When there was danger coming in, bikes and cars of Havoc’s enemies tended to stall out for no reason at the bottom of the hill, leaving the men they carried helpless. That’d been happening since Sweet’s grandfather—Finn—founded the club with three of his Army buddies, fresh out of Vietnam. Sweet always felt his grandfather’s presence strongly at Havoc, like he was being looked after.

And when Bram’s truck left the premises without issue, Sweet chose to take that as a sign that he’d judged Bram correctly.

Now it was time for Sweet to undo some of the damage he’d unwittingly done.

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