Outlaw (Satan's Saints MC) by Bella Love-Wins

Author:Bella Love-Wins [Love-Wins, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Silas

I look down at the cut covering the idiot’s chest. He’s struggling to breathe, but I notice his patch and lift my fingers to see the whole thing. Fuck. It’s got the letters ‘VP’ right under my grip.

“Francisco fucking Garcia?” I shout, calling him by his full name because his face is so fucking busted up from a prior beating, I didn’t recognize him. “Where’s Vasquez holed up?”

“Calm down, Corrigan. We don’t have to be so uncivilized about this.”

“Uncivilized? What about the bombing of my club. Was that civilized?” My voice level raises and I pistol whip him in his right ribs for saying something so fucking stupid.

He grips my forearm, thinking it’ll help to relieve the chokehold. It won’t. Not that I want to kill the fucker—well, not yet.

“Stop talking crap and tell me where the fuck is your sorry-ass President.”

“He’s not here!” the man insists. “He’s been gone all day. I think he’s at one of his exes or something.”

My arm pistons into his ribs again. “How the fuck does a VP not know where your number one is?”

His demeanor changes and his voice goes calm. “Corrigan, you must be more foolish than I thought. You really believe I’ll rat on my Pres for you?”

He’s right. All of my boys would give their lives up before they ever risk betraying our club. I take a moment to think of my next move. Killing him right this second will only kick the rivalry between our clubs up a notch. And although I’m willing to go that far if I have to, an all-out war with these guys isn’t smart. I want some answers before heads roll.

“Pres! Yo, Pres! Over here!”

I swivel my head to the far right. It’s Tate. He’s in the driver seat of one of the Los Diablos’ pickup trucks, and has Axe in the passenger seat. “Boss, these Los Diablos pricks are falling like dominoes.”

“Vasquez ain’t here either,” I tell them, motioning to the head still locked in my chokehold. “His VP says so.”

“Yo, Garcia,” Tate grins. “You look like hell froze over on your fucking face. Your old lade beat you up again?”

“Get our men to pack it up,” I instruct them. “I’ll throw Garcia in the back. The least he can do is get Vasquez on the phone so we can talk.”

“Sounds good, boss.”

Axe gets on the radio, and after I throw Garcia into the truck’s cab, Tate sticks his head out the window. “I’ll drive us out to our bikes.”

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.