Read Online Red Dog: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 6) by Nicole James - Free Book Online

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER ONE
     
     
    Just across the Northern California border into Oregon—
     
    Four motorcycles sat parked in the gravel, their chrome gleaming in the moonlight. They belonged to members of the Evil Dead MC’s San Jose Chapter.
    “You sure this is the spot?” Green asked, eyeing the wooded area around them. “We’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere.”
    Cole lit up his second cigarette since they’d shut off their bikes. He blew the smoke in the air and responded. “Yup. First gravel road off Hwy 99.”
    Red Dog stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze on the night sky. “Sure are a fuck-of-a-lot of stars out here.”
    Only the chirping of crickets, and the sound of an occasional big rig traveling down Interstate 5 in the distance broke the silence.
    “It’s fucking quiet out here, isn’t it?” Wolf noted, taking in a deep breath of fresh night air scented with the smell of pine.
    “Too quiet. Where the fuck are they?” Green snapped.
    “They’ll be here. Chill out, man.” Cole took another drag off his smoke, the glowing tip flaring in the dark.
    “Thought you said midnight. It’s half past. They’re late.”
    “What the fuck are you so jumpy for, Green?” Dog asked. Noting the man’s fidgeting, he teased, “You scared of the dark?”
    “Fuck off. Just don’t like this whole setup. Feels like we’re sitting ducks. What the hell was wrong with the old meeting place?”
    “Gotta change it up, Green. You know that,” Cole replied.
    “Yeah, well, who the fuck picked this place?” Green slapped at a mosquito.
    Wolf teased him, “You just don’t like bugs.”
    “Fuck no, do you?” he growled, swatting at another. “This place is full of ‘em.”
    The distant unmistakable sound of short drag pipes on a Harley echoed through the night.
    Cole, who was slouched sideways on his bike, one boot on the ground, one on the foot peg, stood. He took a final drag and dropped his cigarette, grinding it under his boot. “Show time, boys.”
    All eyes turned down the gravel road they’d ridden up. The sound grew closer and louder until three headlights rounded the bend, illuminating the dust still hanging in the air in an eerie way.
    The bikes stopped, the engines shut off and the headlights extinguished as the new arrivals dismounted. The Oregon Chapter had arrived. The men embraced.
    “Sorry, we’re late,” the one slapping Cole on the back said as he pulled back from the San Jose VP. “Had a tail we had to lose.”
    “Feds?”
    “ATF.”
    Cole frowned at his Oregon counterpart. “You sure you lost ‘em, Weez?”
    The man nodded. “Yeah. Doubled back twice. Lost ‘em in Medford.”
    Cole nodded. “Good.” He lifted his chin. “You get everything we need?”
    “Inside the saddlebags. Sixty and hundred-round magazines.”
    “How many?”
    “Many as we could carry.” Weez grinned. “You got your quota of ammo for the month covered. Don’t worry.”
    “Thank God for Oregon.” Cole grinned back.
    “Yeah, the California ban on high capacity magazines must suck for you guys.”
    “Well, thanks to our Oregon brothers, we get around it, don’t we?”
    The men chuckled. Cole nodded for his boys to begin the transfer. Five minutes later, the men were slapping each other on the back in farewell. The San Jose Chapter watched as the three bikes rolled out, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
    They were about to load up, when Red Dog’s phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket and frowned down at the display.
    “Who is it?” Cole asked, noting Dog’s expression.
    “Shane,” he replied, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Yeah,” he barked in greeting.
    “Your ol’ lady is up at Club XS.”
    Dog frowned, sure he’d heard incorrectly. “What did you just say?”
    “You heard me. She’s dressed for pickin’ up men and one more drink, she’ll be dancin’ on a fuckin’ table. What do you want me to do?”
    Jealousy surged through Red