Zeke (Book 3) by Zoey Parker

Author:Zoey Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: new adult contemporary romance, interracial bad boy romance, dark romance, romantic suspense, motorcycle club romance, mc romance, biker romance, wedding and pregnancy romance, marriage mistake romance
Publisher: Sopris Page Press
Published: 2019-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

ABOVE ME, THE CLOUDS that have been amassing all day make good on their promises. The sky opens into a torrential downpour. Visibility goes immediately to shit. But this is my town; these are my roads. I know them inside out and backwards, can trace every switchback in my sleep. Something as trifling as a little weather could never keep me from Bailey. I pass the block of warehouses from the other night, blurred out by rain. There are a couple police cars in the parking lot and a swarm of officers. So, not there then. If it’s dirty cops we’re after, they wouldn’t risk an audience of their buddies.

I drive. Emmett and Jake will have rounded up the other members of the Slayers and joined Chuy. Right this second, they’ll be on the road just like me, spreading out to track down these kidnapping bastards and root out who they are. But that’s not my concern. Someone else can deal with that. I’ll trust Jake and Emmett and even Chuy with that. But I won’t trust anyone else with Bailey. This is for me alone.

Soon after, the road becomes narrower, and the forest looms on my left-hand side. It’s mostly scrub and scraggly trees, but the rain makes it dark and menacing. There’s only one way to go—on ahead. There are no exits off this road for miles and miles. If Bailey’s kidnapper had turned around, I would have met them coming.

The rain is making these twisty roads slick and treacherous. I’m an experienced rider, and it’s a challenge even for me. My determination keeps me upright and driving forward. I pound on the gas, urging my bike to its limit to match my racing heart. I’m going to find her. I have to.

I slow a little to take a switchback curve without spinning out. That’s when I see it, an out of place gleam of metal out of the corner of my eye. I slow and look behind me. There, half on the shoulder and half in the bushes is the shiny round back end of a motorcycle. Son of a bitch can’t even handle a little rain. I pull over and leave my bike at the side of the road. If anyone stumbles on it, they won’t dare touch it. I aim a good kick at the abandoned bike, shattering a headlight with the steel toe of my boot. Its owner is going to get a lot worse than that.

There’s a clear path cut through the brush. The kidnapper must have heard me coming up behind him and knew he couldn’t outrace me on the road, so he abandoned the bike and took off into the woods.

The pouring rain has turned the ground to mush, but it means their path is clear. I race after them on foot, into the woods. The rain’s gotten under the collar of my jacket, so I’m soaked through. My boots squelch in the mud, but I don’t slip. I can’t. My gun is a comforting weight in my shoulder holster and my blood pounds in my ears.

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