Read Online Renegade: Desert Knights MC by Kara Parker - Free Book Online
Authors: Kara Parker
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just owned by slow riders. These bikes are owned by enforcers, and for the last ten years, the enforcers have been strictly under the control of Brandon Walsh himself.
I walk through the backdoor around the side and down the patio into the main meeting room. A few faces I recognize almost immediately. They are the regular guys, some I’ve even trained, but they’re not my boys, my partners, my team. And as I make my way into the damp, dingy room with the overhead lights that flicker, I get no more than a cold stare.
Brandon’s already up at the front of the room, talking loudly about his orders being the rule of the land. As I step forward towards my usual place at the front, he stops preaching just in the middle of a sentence. His stringy little eyes lock on to me with his mouth narrowing. He’s been waiting for this. I can already tell.
He points a finger at me as he exclaims, “Who the fuck told you that you could come into my meeting late?”
“Late?” I look down at my phone. It’s only six o’clock. I’m nearly a half hour early according to my text. And my shift doesn’t actually begin until an hour later. I hold up my lit up phone to him as I offer, “I was texted six thirty for this meeting. I’m here early.”
One of his henchmen, a clinger I always see following him around like a sick puppy, steps in front of Brandon to say, “No you’re not, brother. The text said five thirty.”
“I can show you the message I got. Unless I got the wrong one, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure that I’m here early for my route and this meeting.”
Brandon pushes forward and walks straight toward me until he gets directly in front of me. I feel his hot breath, as he pushes a finger on my forehead, just tempting me to take him, one-on-one. “You think you can come into my meeting and call me a liar?”
“I’m not calling you anything. But I certainly didn’t imagine this text message.” I hold up my phone once more only to have him slap it out of my hand, causing it to fall on the floor. He steps on it as he comes even closer to me.
I tower over him, taller by at least six inches, but he still manages to puff out that boxy chest of his and suck in his gut, as he huffs and puffs loudly. “My daddy was way too lenient with you. He let you run this ship, but now it’s my turn. And I’m not going to have you stand in my way, do you hear me, bastard?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I’m not about to be disrespected like that. Instead, I cross my arms in front of my chest and step backwards towards the wall, my new place in this group. Brandon goes back towards the podium and points towards a chalkboard with about twenty names written in a child-like handwriting.
My name’s at the bottom, connected to a man I’ve never heard of. My stomach turns as he explains the new pairings. “This shit show had some real fucking stupid teams. It allowed you assholes to get away with far too much. Now I’m putting each runner with one of my enforcers.” Brandon turns back to me as he adds, “Any of you so much as ride an inch outside the routes I planned during your shift, these boys have orders to take you down and ask questions later.”
I see Leo in the crowd stand cautiously, his hand raised slightly over his head, “Brandon, err, I mean, Captain. I’m not on that list.” I look back over the board and scan for confirmation. He’s right. He’s not even on the list of alternates or trainers. He’s been completely left off.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brandon sneers.
“Leo McBriar. I’ve been running with Anton for a long time now. I’ve been on the road since I was seventeen… sir.” I’ve never see Leo so fearful in my entire life, but whatever Brandon’s been selling has got him spooked. He can’t even ask a question without his voice quivering slightly.
Brandon scuffles through a stack of paper in a manila-colored
I walk through the backdoor around the side and down the patio into the main meeting room. A few faces I recognize almost immediately. They are the regular guys, some I’ve even trained, but they’re not my boys, my partners, my team. And as I make my way into the damp, dingy room with the overhead lights that flicker, I get no more than a cold stare.
Brandon’s already up at the front of the room, talking loudly about his orders being the rule of the land. As I step forward towards my usual place at the front, he stops preaching just in the middle of a sentence. His stringy little eyes lock on to me with his mouth narrowing. He’s been waiting for this. I can already tell.
He points a finger at me as he exclaims, “Who the fuck told you that you could come into my meeting late?”
“Late?” I look down at my phone. It’s only six o’clock. I’m nearly a half hour early according to my text. And my shift doesn’t actually begin until an hour later. I hold up my lit up phone to him as I offer, “I was texted six thirty for this meeting. I’m here early.”
One of his henchmen, a clinger I always see following him around like a sick puppy, steps in front of Brandon to say, “No you’re not, brother. The text said five thirty.”
“I can show you the message I got. Unless I got the wrong one, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure that I’m here early for my route and this meeting.”
Brandon pushes forward and walks straight toward me until he gets directly in front of me. I feel his hot breath, as he pushes a finger on my forehead, just tempting me to take him, one-on-one. “You think you can come into my meeting and call me a liar?”
“I’m not calling you anything. But I certainly didn’t imagine this text message.” I hold up my phone once more only to have him slap it out of my hand, causing it to fall on the floor. He steps on it as he comes even closer to me.
I tower over him, taller by at least six inches, but he still manages to puff out that boxy chest of his and suck in his gut, as he huffs and puffs loudly. “My daddy was way too lenient with you. He let you run this ship, but now it’s my turn. And I’m not going to have you stand in my way, do you hear me, bastard?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I’m not about to be disrespected like that. Instead, I cross my arms in front of my chest and step backwards towards the wall, my new place in this group. Brandon goes back towards the podium and points towards a chalkboard with about twenty names written in a child-like handwriting.
My name’s at the bottom, connected to a man I’ve never heard of. My stomach turns as he explains the new pairings. “This shit show had some real fucking stupid teams. It allowed you assholes to get away with far too much. Now I’m putting each runner with one of my enforcers.” Brandon turns back to me as he adds, “Any of you so much as ride an inch outside the routes I planned during your shift, these boys have orders to take you down and ask questions later.”
I see Leo in the crowd stand cautiously, his hand raised slightly over his head, “Brandon, err, I mean, Captain. I’m not on that list.” I look back over the board and scan for confirmation. He’s right. He’s not even on the list of alternates or trainers. He’s been completely left off.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brandon sneers.
“Leo McBriar. I’ve been running with Anton for a long time now. I’ve been on the road since I was seventeen… sir.” I’ve never see Leo so fearful in my entire life, but whatever Brandon’s been selling has got him spooked. He can’t even ask a question without his voice quivering slightly.
Brandon scuffles through a stack of paper in a manila-colored
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