Savage and Racy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Bad Boys MC Trilogy Book 3) by Blaze Violet

Author:Blaze, Violet [Blaze, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2017-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

Sixty guys, loaded up with weapons and riding motorcycles. Not at all conspicuous, right? Fuckin' hell.

We leave the rest of our brothers either at the clubhouse or with the old ladies at the hospital, splitting the rest into six groups to keep the noise and attention from the public to a minimum.

“I still think you should stay here,” Dober mumbles, but I've never much been for listening. He strokes his beard with his tattooed hand and glares at me as I check my revolver and spin the cylinder, pushing it back into place with the heel of my hand.

“Holed up in a fucking foreclosed mansion. Brilliant, yeah? Never would've thought to check with the rich assholes to see if a cartel was hiding amongst their ranks.”

Dober rolls his eyes and glances at Smoky, Mug and Glacier. Mick's staying to watch the compound along with Hawkins, while Jack's at the hospital with his ol' lady. Mannon, the Seattle Sergeant-at-Arms, will take one group while the rest of the out-of-towners are split up amongst my own boys. Plans are made; weapons are loaded.

It's time to go and all I can think about is Lyric.

“Ready?” I ask my officers, noticing that Glacier's grinning wide, his crossbow strapped to his back.

“Ready,” he says as Mug grunts the affirmative and Dober rolls his eyes and gives me a look like he wants to kick my ass.

“Then let's get this bloody over with.”

I climb onto my Swinger and start her up, adjusting my helmet on my head and making sure the mic system built into it is on and ready. It's crucial for a group this large, so we can communicate while riding. No other way to move an army like this.

We start out the gates well after dark and take separate routes towards a brand-new neighborhood known as Towering Heights, an awful little enclave of mini-mansions carved out of the forest and hidden beneath the towering heights of the redwood trees above them. On the one hand, the thought of rich outsiders moving into my town and buying up undeveloped land makes me physically ill. On the other, I'm excited by the prospect of a big, expensive house with good soundproofing and plenty of land on all sides to hide our activity from the neighbors.

I think of Lyric's warning, reminding my boys over the mic to keep an eye out.

“You see anyone suspicious following us, and you stay as far away from the mansion as bloody possible.”

“Roger that,” Glacier chirps over the intercom, chuckling before Dober tells him to shut the fuck up.

Our group swings towards the sea first and then south, towards the city, stopping just before the first suburban crawl sneaks out of the trees. We turn east then, moving around the most populated parts of Trinidad before readjusting our direction towards Towering Heights. The routes we're using are back roads, farm roads, logging roads. There's virtually zero traffic, so if someone were following, we'd know.

When I decide we're clear, we hook a

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