Read Online Striker: No Prisoners MC Book 1 by Lilly Atlas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lilly Atlas
Ads: Link
continued on, turning down a few random streets without a pattern. If the car stayed with her, it would be obvious that it was following her. None of the streets had sidewalks and Lila felt vulnerable and exposed. Every few seconds, she snuck a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, the car remained with her for every turn. The driver maintained a fair distance, but didn’t really attempt to hide the fact that they were shadowing her.
The rush of Lila’s blood pounded in her ears, a combination of the exercise and mounting anxiety, and she found herself running at full speed. She forced her legs to slow down, and not give away the fact that she was aware she was being followed. She switched off the music to better listen for the car.
Suddenly the rumble of an engine grew louder, and she turned in time to see the car barreling down the street straight for her. It swerved at the last second, and shot down the block with the roar of its engine. Lila doubled over gasping for breath as she stared at the retreating taillights.
It had all happened in an instant; one second they were at the end of the road and in the next, the vehicle had been inches away from her. It was apparent the driver was intent on scaring her. Had they meant to hit her, they would have; she wouldn’t have stood a chance.
She glanced up from her stooped position, hands on her knees, and watched the car swing a U-turn at the end of the street. Fuck! That first drive-by had been a warning, but was the driver planning to play with her some more, or did they mean to hit her this time?
Lila spun around and sprinted, pushing her muscles to their maximum capacity. Her legs burned. She forced her muscles to near failure, and her heart slammed against her ribs as she hauled ass along the pavement. Dizziness swamped her, a combination of fear and hyperventilation. She was dying to know how close the car was, but refrained from peeking over her shoulder as fear of losing speed swamped her.
The clubhouse was within her sights, just around the upcoming corner. Would they help her if she could make it there before being mowed down? It was the only place she knew in this neighborhood, so she had to chance it. Just as she rounded the corner, the revving of an engine overshadowed the roar in her ears, and Lila prayed her legs would hold out until she got to the garage.
~ ~ ~ ~
Striker’s thoughts were with the Grimm Brothers as he loosened the cable clutch on a bike and checked out the ball-and-cam gizzer. Sure enough, there was too much pressure, and it needed to be adjusted. Easy fix, and one Striker could do in his sleep, or while his mind was replaying the meeting with Jackal. Nearly a week later, he had an itch at the back of his neck that demanded its due.
He tightened the locknut and forced himself to think of anything else. The rest of the guys in the garage were conducting a post mortem of last night’s party. Striker went, and had two or three opportunities to take a warm and willing woman up to his room, but something had stopped him.
Who was he kidding? He knew exactly what had stopped him. For some screwed up reason, every time he thought of fucking a woman this past week, Lila’s face popped into his head. She starred in every fantasy he had while jerking off in the shower, and he felt like a teenager with too many hormones and nowhere to stick his dick.
“So, you see her?” Jester’s question knocked him out of his own head.
“See who?”
“That piece Acer snagged last night.” Jester put down the airbrush he’d been working with and spun on his stool.
“She was something,” Acer broke in with a grin. “My dick is actually sore today.”
“Not that we don’t all love hearing about your dick, but that bitch you went home with, that was Brandi, right?” Gumby’s voice floated up from under the hood of an old beater.
“Yeah, why? You hit that?” Acer asked.
“I think we’ve all hit that. Good lay, but she is one crazy-ass
The rush of Lila’s blood pounded in her ears, a combination of the exercise and mounting anxiety, and she found herself running at full speed. She forced her legs to slow down, and not give away the fact that she was aware she was being followed. She switched off the music to better listen for the car.
Suddenly the rumble of an engine grew louder, and she turned in time to see the car barreling down the street straight for her. It swerved at the last second, and shot down the block with the roar of its engine. Lila doubled over gasping for breath as she stared at the retreating taillights.
It had all happened in an instant; one second they were at the end of the road and in the next, the vehicle had been inches away from her. It was apparent the driver was intent on scaring her. Had they meant to hit her, they would have; she wouldn’t have stood a chance.
She glanced up from her stooped position, hands on her knees, and watched the car swing a U-turn at the end of the street. Fuck! That first drive-by had been a warning, but was the driver planning to play with her some more, or did they mean to hit her this time?
Lila spun around and sprinted, pushing her muscles to their maximum capacity. Her legs burned. She forced her muscles to near failure, and her heart slammed against her ribs as she hauled ass along the pavement. Dizziness swamped her, a combination of fear and hyperventilation. She was dying to know how close the car was, but refrained from peeking over her shoulder as fear of losing speed swamped her.
The clubhouse was within her sights, just around the upcoming corner. Would they help her if she could make it there before being mowed down? It was the only place she knew in this neighborhood, so she had to chance it. Just as she rounded the corner, the revving of an engine overshadowed the roar in her ears, and Lila prayed her legs would hold out until she got to the garage.
~ ~ ~ ~
Striker’s thoughts were with the Grimm Brothers as he loosened the cable clutch on a bike and checked out the ball-and-cam gizzer. Sure enough, there was too much pressure, and it needed to be adjusted. Easy fix, and one Striker could do in his sleep, or while his mind was replaying the meeting with Jackal. Nearly a week later, he had an itch at the back of his neck that demanded its due.
He tightened the locknut and forced himself to think of anything else. The rest of the guys in the garage were conducting a post mortem of last night’s party. Striker went, and had two or three opportunities to take a warm and willing woman up to his room, but something had stopped him.
Who was he kidding? He knew exactly what had stopped him. For some screwed up reason, every time he thought of fucking a woman this past week, Lila’s face popped into his head. She starred in every fantasy he had while jerking off in the shower, and he felt like a teenager with too many hormones and nowhere to stick his dick.
“So, you see her?” Jester’s question knocked him out of his own head.
“See who?”
“That piece Acer snagged last night.” Jester put down the airbrush he’d been working with and spun on his stool.
“She was something,” Acer broke in with a grin. “My dick is actually sore today.”
“Not that we don’t all love hearing about your dick, but that bitch you went home with, that was Brandi, right?” Gumby’s voice floated up from under the hood of an old beater.
“Yeah, why? You hit that?” Acer asked.
“I think we’ve all hit that. Good lay, but she is one crazy-ass
Similar Books
