Read Online Cocky Biker: A Stand Alone MC Romance Novel (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 2) by Faleena Hopkins - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Faleena Hopkins
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I bet they didn’t need more because – and I fuckin’ hate to say this – but this place looks like a well-oiled machine.”
With disgust, Tonk growls, “Since they lied to the women about the police, I bet they never try to escape.”
On a long exhale, Scratch asks Tonk, “You have the rope?”
He nods. “It’s in my bags.”
“Jesus, no wonder you never change your pants. You don’t have any room in there,” Honey Badger mutters.
“Hey, I’m prepared for shit like this,” Tonk shoots back.
We all make quick strides back to find Fuse kicking one of the bodyguards in the gut.
“He was getting up. I got that one over there, too.” Fuse points to a mess in the corner. He nods with amusement in his eyes. His nose is a dripping, bloody mess and his jacket is gonna need a sewing job.
“Good thing you got shot,” I tell him, staring at the man he kicked. “Kept you out here keeping watch.”
Soon we’re cutting rope with pocketknives and tying up the fallen evil. I hear a noise and look up. To say the staircase is ornate would be a fuckin’ understatement.
“Did we check upstairs?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Someone’s up there. I’ll go.”
Honey Badger tightens the knot around the ankles of a thug and rises to come with.
Scratch warily looks upstairs and exhales through his nose. He swipes a couple machine guns from where they fell, and hands them to Fuse and Tonk. “I’ll protect the women and guard their door. Fuse, you make sure no one gets out the front. Tonk, check the other rooms on this floor. Jett, Honey, grab those rifles on your way.”
Everyone breaks off. Honey Badger and I do as we’re told and then stalk our way up the gaudy-ass staircase, but I’m sure whoever’s up there heard us talking.
They know we’re on our way. I feel calm. Ready to strike. I know Honey Badger feels the same. He’s great under pressure. I feel sorry for the fuckers we’re about to meet.
As we make our way down a long hallway, the second floor is quiet as a graveyard after a funeral. We carefully open doors to empty rooms decorated in the most expensive furniture money can buy.
At the far end one is cracked and waiting for us.
I’ve suddenly got a feeling in my gut I don’t like.
Honey Badger looks at it, then back to me.
I nod.
Crouched, we approach and duck as a man jumps out and starts shooting. We meet his shots with our own and he falls in a grunting, jerking heap.
I kick the door open and we both freeze.
An elderly man is in a bed fit for a king. He’s on oxygen, watching us with wrinkly eyes that have an odd smile pulling at their edges. In front of the bed is Sunshine, tied up in a velvet red chair, her mouth covered with duct tape. Her beautiful eyes go wide at the sight of me.
Honey Badger shouts, “JETT!”
Jett
D ucking just in time , a bullet zips past my head. Honey Badger rushes the guy hiding behind the door. As I stride over to Sunshine another gunshot explodes through the room. I look over my shoulder to see if my friend is okay. He nods at me, his rotund body rising up as he grunts. The thug took the bullet. He’s down.
“Search for more!” I growl as I reach her, setting down the machine gun by her feet. “You okay?”
She nods.
“They hurt you?”
She shakes her head.
“This is gonna hurt,” I warn as I rip the duct tape off.
She gasps for air and handles the pain like a soldier.
“All clear,” Honey Badger assures me, returning and staying by the door, just in case. “This is the last room upstairs.” The old man watches us with rasping breaths echoing pathetically off the walls. The machine is making a pathetic sound, but I don’t like the look in this guy’s eyes. This guy is the big honcho. There’s no doubt in my mind. On his nightstand are bottles of pills and…her 9mm.
“What are you doing here,” she demands, voice hoarse from fear and bondage.
Untying the ropes on her wrists and ankles, I joke, “It was either this or
With disgust, Tonk growls, “Since they lied to the women about the police, I bet they never try to escape.”
On a long exhale, Scratch asks Tonk, “You have the rope?”
He nods. “It’s in my bags.”
“Jesus, no wonder you never change your pants. You don’t have any room in there,” Honey Badger mutters.
“Hey, I’m prepared for shit like this,” Tonk shoots back.
We all make quick strides back to find Fuse kicking one of the bodyguards in the gut.
“He was getting up. I got that one over there, too.” Fuse points to a mess in the corner. He nods with amusement in his eyes. His nose is a dripping, bloody mess and his jacket is gonna need a sewing job.
“Good thing you got shot,” I tell him, staring at the man he kicked. “Kept you out here keeping watch.”
Soon we’re cutting rope with pocketknives and tying up the fallen evil. I hear a noise and look up. To say the staircase is ornate would be a fuckin’ understatement.
“Did we check upstairs?” Everyone shakes their heads. “Someone’s up there. I’ll go.”
Honey Badger tightens the knot around the ankles of a thug and rises to come with.
Scratch warily looks upstairs and exhales through his nose. He swipes a couple machine guns from where they fell, and hands them to Fuse and Tonk. “I’ll protect the women and guard their door. Fuse, you make sure no one gets out the front. Tonk, check the other rooms on this floor. Jett, Honey, grab those rifles on your way.”
Everyone breaks off. Honey Badger and I do as we’re told and then stalk our way up the gaudy-ass staircase, but I’m sure whoever’s up there heard us talking.
They know we’re on our way. I feel calm. Ready to strike. I know Honey Badger feels the same. He’s great under pressure. I feel sorry for the fuckers we’re about to meet.
As we make our way down a long hallway, the second floor is quiet as a graveyard after a funeral. We carefully open doors to empty rooms decorated in the most expensive furniture money can buy.
At the far end one is cracked and waiting for us.
I’ve suddenly got a feeling in my gut I don’t like.
Honey Badger looks at it, then back to me.
I nod.
Crouched, we approach and duck as a man jumps out and starts shooting. We meet his shots with our own and he falls in a grunting, jerking heap.
I kick the door open and we both freeze.
An elderly man is in a bed fit for a king. He’s on oxygen, watching us with wrinkly eyes that have an odd smile pulling at their edges. In front of the bed is Sunshine, tied up in a velvet red chair, her mouth covered with duct tape. Her beautiful eyes go wide at the sight of me.
Honey Badger shouts, “JETT!”
Jett
D ucking just in time , a bullet zips past my head. Honey Badger rushes the guy hiding behind the door. As I stride over to Sunshine another gunshot explodes through the room. I look over my shoulder to see if my friend is okay. He nods at me, his rotund body rising up as he grunts. The thug took the bullet. He’s down.
“Search for more!” I growl as I reach her, setting down the machine gun by her feet. “You okay?”
She nods.
“They hurt you?”
She shakes her head.
“This is gonna hurt,” I warn as I rip the duct tape off.
She gasps for air and handles the pain like a soldier.
“All clear,” Honey Badger assures me, returning and staying by the door, just in case. “This is the last room upstairs.” The old man watches us with rasping breaths echoing pathetically off the walls. The machine is making a pathetic sound, but I don’t like the look in this guy’s eyes. This guy is the big honcho. There’s no doubt in my mind. On his nightstand are bottles of pills and…her 9mm.
“What are you doing here,” she demands, voice hoarse from fear and bondage.
Untying the ropes on her wrists and ankles, I joke, “It was either this or
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