Dodging You (outlaws Mc) Novels & Stories

All I can think is, where did that knife come from? Seeing their associate fall, the other men take action. Micah pulls back and shoves me behind some shelves before he turns back to one of the men to kick his gun from his hand, catches it mid-air and shoots the other gunman in the leg. The man falls forward with a cry as he grips his bleeding leg while I close my ears to block out the sound of his painful cry. Micah turns to the bleeding man and knees him in the face to quiet him. The other man he disarmed takes action and throws a punch at Micah’s face, but Micah dodges his strike and punches him in the stomach. I’m in shock at what I see at this point. If I said Micah was a badass earlier

The man couldn't deal with silence at all, and sure enough, he started to talk again. “I don’t mean the super, heavy-duty illegal shit, OK, I know your boys are out of that, Wolf. I mean the more… well. The milder illegal shit. Illegal-lite.” Wolf and Scars exchanged loaded glances, returned their attention to Dawson. Still said nothing. “It’s the Highway Hellions boys out in Utah,” Dawson said. “Crusher Alcott’s people.”

The sound of my name chilled my blood. Despite the tightness in my veins, I replied, "You don't know me," in a steady voice. "Don't I?" He took a step closer, his moves slow and deliberate. "Out here, word gets around quickly, puppy. You're not particularly clever." I gripped the dagger tighter. This was no chance meeting. "What are you looking for?" I asked. The outlaw gave a gloomy laugh. "What you wish is the true question. Are you following a girl who is trying to hide? Or are you fleeing from a more dangerous situation?"

“Don’t wait up for me tonight. It’ll be very late.” On my way out of the house, I called Damien again. “Everything set up?” “Yes, everyone’s on their way.” “Have our watchers said anything about movement in the clubhouse?” “They seem to have a meeting. All the bikes are in front of the club.” Now that Rico had destroyed an entire chapter in cold blood, the retribution of the MC was only a matter of time. They were volatile, bound by fewer rules than us. It was part of my life I didn’t want Sofia, Stefan, or Valentina to be part of. I’d do my best to protect them from it.

There were more strung-out addicts here than dancers. I headed in the back where I knew the dealers like Max usually hung out. I kept hoping that Cody was wrong. It was darkly-lit in here. He could have mistook Max for someone else. I heard Max’s voice before I even saw him. He was surrounded by his fellow outlaws. I stopped when I saw some older Vandals near him, too. The outlaws made the deals and handed the money to the Vandals who were there only to supervise. I exhaled with relief when I saw that Hank was not there.

His scream cut off as he muffled it in his elbow, and I pulled my foot free to stomp over him and hurry around the hood of the Jeep. Rick was back up on his feet, and he was giving the remaining two ski-masked goons a run for their money. He was also bleeding from a split lip and a gash in his right cheek. “Hey!” I yelled, demanding the attention of the goon closest to me. He turned while his buddy dealt Rick a hard knee to the gut. Rick doubled over, clutching his stomach, and stumbled back into the Jeep. He looked wildly up at me. “Get the hell out of here, Harley!”

Jace tried to scramble back toward the escape vehicle, his hands clawing at the mud, but a massive black boot slammed down onto his back, pinning him flat against the wet earth. Dominic stood over him, his chest heaving, his dark eyes locked onto the shivering, bleeding Beta. He reached down, grabbing Jace by his wet, silver hair and dragging him up the steps of the compound like a sack of garbage. The outlaws gathered around the front steps, their weapons resting on their shoulders, their faces covered in rain and soot. They were laughing, cheering, looking up at the roof where Valerie stood.

replied, “Good, I prefer a quick fight.” The group surrounded me, raising their iron rods to strike at me with all their might. With a swift motion, I slashed my dagger across their wrists, using my last ounce of strength to push myself off the ground and kick towards them. Thud! Several of them fell to the ground. Suddenly, a rumbling sound echoed nearby. “Not good, someone’s coming! Let’s go!” More than a dozen men in black jumped off the truck, but just as they were about to escape, a blinding light shone down on them. A group of armed individuals aimed their dark guns at the men, while a helicopter hovered above. A tall, stern-looking man stepped out of a vehicle. An overwhelming pressu

Instinct is a thing that overrides instruction, especially when the blood on your hands still smells like a promise. I darted from the café and sprinted two blocks to the alley. The street spat me out into a picture of chaos: the courier and the Santoro man wrestled; the Civic’s passenger had dragged a second gun from the trunk. Marcus’s van was there, its back door open, the two men in it already drawing firearms. The courier fought hard—an ugly, desperate scrabble. The duffel spilled open and I saw—papers, a burner, Mira’s scarf. My stomach flipped.

"Elaine isn't even bleeding, Mr. Lowe. You don't need to help her." I was wearing black today. In reality, the shards of glass pierced my thighs, making them bleed. Anna moved in front of Zachary before instructing Isaac and Sean to pin me to the floor. "Let me teach her a lesson, Mr. Lowe! That's the only way to make her cooperate!"