Read Online Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2) by Sarah Osborne - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Osborne
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efforts to hide it, it was clear he was in pain, and now he was going to ride for the best part of a day to Seattle.
She looked down as Blue whined. “Hard isn't it, boy.”
He'd never really told her what had happened to his leg – he'd still had a dressing over the wound when they first met – all he'd ever said was that he'd pissed off a man with a gun. She'd never pushed and pretended not to notice when he limped. There were other injuries, too. A trick shoulder from laying down his bike that kept him awake sometimes, a long scar down the right side of his torso, and on more than one occasion he'd come to her bruised and bleeding. She turned and, with a sigh, walked back into her house. She'd always tried not to think about what could happen to him, but it was hard when the evidence was staring her in the face.
EIGHT
As chapters went, Seattle was one of the most harmonious. It was bigger than many, but it wasn’t rich. The patches worked regular nine to five jobs away from the club, and apart from its dues, the only real cash it brought in was from protection runs and security work. Wolf was a good President; his officers appeared loyal and, despite his advancing years, no one was making moves to take the gavel. Samson had always thought that if he was going to settle anywhere, it would be here.
Recently, though, there seemed to be tension amongst the ranks. Many chapters on the west coast ran chop shops, breaking up cars and shipping the parts around the country. Seattle was one of the few that didn't and had flown pretty much under the authorities' radar. The chapter had agreed to store the parts and escort the shipments out east, and although it was proving lucrative, it was causing some unwanted attention, and this was making Wolf in particular very paranoid. Samson couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this paranoia than just the Feds sniffing around.
“Samson, brother.” Barney was leaning against the bar – a bottle of Bud in one hand and a blonde in the other. He grabbed her hair and pulling her head back, kissed her. “Gimme five, sweet tits. Wanna talk to my bro.” He slapped her ass and watched as she shimmied away before turning his attention to Samson. “Thought you were in Reno.”
“ Nah, something came up. Gave the gig to Fox. Gonna head on up to Vancouver in the morning.” He headed behind the bar and helped himself to a beer. “Any word on this witness?”
“ He's a bartender, goes by the name of Billy Smitt. Don't worry, bro, we got it covered. He's a bit too fond of the horses, shouldn't be a problem persuading him to forget what he saw.”
“ And the assholes that killed Mikey.”
“ Still working on it. But it's looking like it's some two-bit street gang getting too big for its boots.” Barney shrugged. “Whoever they are, they have got some balls. They've been selling meth right under our noses, and as fast as we take down their cookhouses they're setting up another.”
“ Where can I find them?”
“ As far as we know, they're based around the old docks, but honestly they're showing up everywhere. We didn't pay them much attention at first. Just a bunch of asshole street dealers across town. Wolf's getting worried, though. They're setting up shop wherever they like and stealing from businesses under our protection. Fuckers ain't showing no respect.”
“ So we take 'em down.” Samson looked around the dimly lit bar. This was not a chapter made up of young men; the youngest were in their forties and most were nearer sixty. The days of turf wars and running battles with rival clubs were long behind them, and most of the money the club brought in was – for the most part – legit. “If we let these assholes disrespect us, what's to stop others doing the same? They killed Mikey and attacked me. We cannot let this go, brother.”
“ I know.” Barney sighed. “We're doing what we can. But they're slippery and always seem one step ahead of
She looked down as Blue whined. “Hard isn't it, boy.”
He'd never really told her what had happened to his leg – he'd still had a dressing over the wound when they first met – all he'd ever said was that he'd pissed off a man with a gun. She'd never pushed and pretended not to notice when he limped. There were other injuries, too. A trick shoulder from laying down his bike that kept him awake sometimes, a long scar down the right side of his torso, and on more than one occasion he'd come to her bruised and bleeding. She turned and, with a sigh, walked back into her house. She'd always tried not to think about what could happen to him, but it was hard when the evidence was staring her in the face.
EIGHT
As chapters went, Seattle was one of the most harmonious. It was bigger than many, but it wasn’t rich. The patches worked regular nine to five jobs away from the club, and apart from its dues, the only real cash it brought in was from protection runs and security work. Wolf was a good President; his officers appeared loyal and, despite his advancing years, no one was making moves to take the gavel. Samson had always thought that if he was going to settle anywhere, it would be here.
Recently, though, there seemed to be tension amongst the ranks. Many chapters on the west coast ran chop shops, breaking up cars and shipping the parts around the country. Seattle was one of the few that didn't and had flown pretty much under the authorities' radar. The chapter had agreed to store the parts and escort the shipments out east, and although it was proving lucrative, it was causing some unwanted attention, and this was making Wolf in particular very paranoid. Samson couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this paranoia than just the Feds sniffing around.
“Samson, brother.” Barney was leaning against the bar – a bottle of Bud in one hand and a blonde in the other. He grabbed her hair and pulling her head back, kissed her. “Gimme five, sweet tits. Wanna talk to my bro.” He slapped her ass and watched as she shimmied away before turning his attention to Samson. “Thought you were in Reno.”
“ Nah, something came up. Gave the gig to Fox. Gonna head on up to Vancouver in the morning.” He headed behind the bar and helped himself to a beer. “Any word on this witness?”
“ He's a bartender, goes by the name of Billy Smitt. Don't worry, bro, we got it covered. He's a bit too fond of the horses, shouldn't be a problem persuading him to forget what he saw.”
“ And the assholes that killed Mikey.”
“ Still working on it. But it's looking like it's some two-bit street gang getting too big for its boots.” Barney shrugged. “Whoever they are, they have got some balls. They've been selling meth right under our noses, and as fast as we take down their cookhouses they're setting up another.”
“ Where can I find them?”
“ As far as we know, they're based around the old docks, but honestly they're showing up everywhere. We didn't pay them much attention at first. Just a bunch of asshole street dealers across town. Wolf's getting worried, though. They're setting up shop wherever they like and stealing from businesses under our protection. Fuckers ain't showing no respect.”
“ So we take 'em down.” Samson looked around the dimly lit bar. This was not a chapter made up of young men; the youngest were in their forties and most were nearer sixty. The days of turf wars and running battles with rival clubs were long behind them, and most of the money the club brought in was – for the most part – legit. “If we let these assholes disrespect us, what's to stop others doing the same? They killed Mikey and attacked me. We cannot let this go, brother.”
“ I know.” Barney sighed. “We're doing what we can. But they're slippery and always seem one step ahead of
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