Read Online Hidden Flames by Kennedy Layne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kennedy Layne
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brown greasy hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He had tattoos everywhere that didn’t seem to have a rhyme or reason. He had piercing blue eyes that made her feel like he could cut her with them and she didn’t appreciate the way he skimmed them over her body. He was trouble and, by the look of the others, his friends were no different…birds of a feather.
“The border agents won’t let you cross with those guns.” The leader, as Prue had dubbed him, hooked the nozzle back into place. He never took his eyes off of her as he spoke to Owen. She firmly turned her back and swung her leg over her seat, getting as comfortable as she could as she waited for Owen to do the same. “We’ll take them off of your hands.”
“We’re good,” Owen said in a steel-toned voice. She’d never heard him talk like that and she hit the run button, unlocking her ignition and ready to start her engine. She looked over to where the veteran stood in the window and wished she’d gotten his name. She had no doubt that he could protect himself, but she still didn’t like leaving him here with these bikers. It was men like them that gave bikers a bad name. Hell, she had a tattoo and an attitude as well, but she didn’t cause trouble unless some idiot started something first. “You might want to get your intake changed out before you travel too far. The K&N is going to fill with ash and foul your plugs.”
“Deacon,” the man said, walking closer and holding out his large hand. Prue watched the exchange in her side mirror, not turning around to offer this man anything. She had a bad feeling about him. “We can ride with you to the Mexican border. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“We appreciate the offer,” Owen said, making it plain for all of them that wasn’t the case, “but we have a couple other stops to make. We have our own group to ride with.”
Owen positioned himself on the bike and started his engine before Deacon could say anything else. Prue turned her head to the side and noticed that the other three men were either eyeing the case of weapons attached to Owen’s bike or her. She didn’t care for either and followed along Owen’s actions by pressing her starter button. She glanced one more time at the veteran in the window, catching his slight nod that he had everything covered on his end. He probably did, because Prue wouldn’t be surprised if these men weren’t on their tail in around five minutes.
Prue finally caught on that Owen wanted her to pull out first, so she dropped the shifter into first with her left foot and eased off the clutch with her left hand while applying throttle with her right. The speed limit was forty-five miles per hour, but she facilitated through the gears and eventually had them at fifteen miles over that to put as much distance between them and Deacon’s group as possible. They rode for another ten minutes before Owen eased over and then in front of her, taking the lead and signaling that they were turning right around thirty feet ahead. She turned after he did and they got another two miles under their belt before he had them slow it down and pull off in a small gravel area under a bed of heavily leafed trees.
“You mentioned before that you know how to use a weapon,” Owen said, getting off of his bike and opening up one of the weapon cases. “This is a Sig Sauer P220 Match Elite .45 ACP double action semi-automatic handgun. The recoil is heavy, so don’t be surprised by it. Aim center mass and squeeze the round off. They won’t need a second shot unless you miss or they are wearing body armor. Thread this holster onto your belt, along with this pouch for two extra magazines. If you have to pull the pistol, shoot each target in a deliberate manner. Do not hesitate.”
Prue didn’t have a choice but to shut off her engine and follow suit. She glanced behind them even though she didn’t hear the rumble of other engines. In fact, all she could hear was the rustling of
“The border agents won’t let you cross with those guns.” The leader, as Prue had dubbed him, hooked the nozzle back into place. He never took his eyes off of her as he spoke to Owen. She firmly turned her back and swung her leg over her seat, getting as comfortable as she could as she waited for Owen to do the same. “We’ll take them off of your hands.”
“We’re good,” Owen said in a steel-toned voice. She’d never heard him talk like that and she hit the run button, unlocking her ignition and ready to start her engine. She looked over to where the veteran stood in the window and wished she’d gotten his name. She had no doubt that he could protect himself, but she still didn’t like leaving him here with these bikers. It was men like them that gave bikers a bad name. Hell, she had a tattoo and an attitude as well, but she didn’t cause trouble unless some idiot started something first. “You might want to get your intake changed out before you travel too far. The K&N is going to fill with ash and foul your plugs.”
“Deacon,” the man said, walking closer and holding out his large hand. Prue watched the exchange in her side mirror, not turning around to offer this man anything. She had a bad feeling about him. “We can ride with you to the Mexican border. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“We appreciate the offer,” Owen said, making it plain for all of them that wasn’t the case, “but we have a couple other stops to make. We have our own group to ride with.”
Owen positioned himself on the bike and started his engine before Deacon could say anything else. Prue turned her head to the side and noticed that the other three men were either eyeing the case of weapons attached to Owen’s bike or her. She didn’t care for either and followed along Owen’s actions by pressing her starter button. She glanced one more time at the veteran in the window, catching his slight nod that he had everything covered on his end. He probably did, because Prue wouldn’t be surprised if these men weren’t on their tail in around five minutes.
Prue finally caught on that Owen wanted her to pull out first, so she dropped the shifter into first with her left foot and eased off the clutch with her left hand while applying throttle with her right. The speed limit was forty-five miles per hour, but she facilitated through the gears and eventually had them at fifteen miles over that to put as much distance between them and Deacon’s group as possible. They rode for another ten minutes before Owen eased over and then in front of her, taking the lead and signaling that they were turning right around thirty feet ahead. She turned after he did and they got another two miles under their belt before he had them slow it down and pull off in a small gravel area under a bed of heavily leafed trees.
“You mentioned before that you know how to use a weapon,” Owen said, getting off of his bike and opening up one of the weapon cases. “This is a Sig Sauer P220 Match Elite .45 ACP double action semi-automatic handgun. The recoil is heavy, so don’t be surprised by it. Aim center mass and squeeze the round off. They won’t need a second shot unless you miss or they are wearing body armor. Thread this holster onto your belt, along with this pouch for two extra magazines. If you have to pull the pistol, shoot each target in a deliberate manner. Do not hesitate.”
Prue didn’t have a choice but to shut off her engine and follow suit. She glanced behind them even though she didn’t hear the rumble of other engines. In fact, all she could hear was the rustling of
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