Read Online Twisted Rose: Motorcycle Dark Romance 3 (The Darkness Trilogy) by Abby Weeks - Free Book Online
Book: Twisted Rose: Motorcycle Dark Romance 3 (The Darkness Trilogy) by Abby Weeks
Read Free Book Online
Authors: Abby Weeks
Ads: Link
handgun was stuffed in his belt at his back and he’d covered it with his jacket. As he reached the door of the clubhouse he almost thought he heard his voice being called. But with the wind coming in from the north the way it was he took it as an omen and didn’t look back.
The DRMC clubhouse was like a lot of other biker clubhouses Josh had seen. There were pool tables in the center of the room and a bar against the back wall. Doors led off the various rooms and there was a staircase that opened onto a landing overlooking the bar. The place reminded Josh of the old saloons he’d seen in western movies.
Three guys were sitting at the bar with their backs to him. They were being halfheartedly served by the fattest bartender Josh had ever seen. His face was cut up and badly bruised, as if he’d recently been in a fight.
Josh cleared his throat. The three bikers at the bar looked over their shoulders at him. They were all middle-aged with broad shoulders, the DRMC patches on their backs, and beards that made them look like Vikings. None of them was Serge Gauthier.
“Who the fuck are you?” the one in the middle said.
Josh didn’t answer him. He walked with long, steady strides in their direction with such purpose and assuredness that they hesitated to react. Josh had known they would hesitate. The DRMC was a club run on fear, and fear like that always made men slow to react. It made them slow when they needed to be fast. They were all afraid that Josh might be some friend of Serge or Deuce and that he was walking toward them with such confidence because he knew none of them could get away with laying a finger on him. That was the disadvantage of having a big club and keeping your members in the dark.
Josh addressed the bartender directly.
“Are you Fat Boy?”
But he didn’t even wait for an answer. Before Fat Boy had a chance to decide what was going on Josh pulled his gun from behind his back and suddenly, Bang!
There was the slapping sound of a bullet and in the same instant one of the bikers at the bar took that bullet straight to the head. His skull exploded on impact and blood and bits of bone splattered the other men.
Before his limp body even hit the ground, Josh’s gun let off a second bullet and the man next to him suffered the same fate. A bullet struck him just above the nape of the neck and came out the front of his face and smashed the mirror facing the bar. By now, both Fat Boy and the third man at the bar were desperately ducking for cover but it did the man at the bar no good. He had nowhere to hide. He was crouched down with the bodies of his two friends and Josh didn’t even pause to look at him. He had his gun stretched out in front of him and he put two bullets in him. There was no thinking in Josh’s actions. Any thinking had been done before he entered that bar. It had been done on the ride down from Chazel, or in the bed, lying next to Rose. Now was not the time for thought. It was a time for action.
The bullets flew toward the man and hit him like stones being flung into thick tar, sinking into the flesh around his shoulders and neck. The man collapsed onto his two friends in a pool of blood that was growing by the second.
Josh was still walking toward the bar and was just ten paces from it when Fat Boy rose up from behind it. He was holding a mean looking shotgun and in the same instant that Josh dove for cover, the barrel of the shotgun exploded with a flash of actual flame.
Josh screamed in pain. Shrapnel from the shot had cut into his left shoulder and back as he’d ducked for cover. He was behind an overturned table but he knew that Fat Boy had only released one of the barrels of the gun. He leapt from where he was to get better cover behind the pool table and in the same instant the table shattered into splinters. That was it for Fat Boy. The shotgun only had two barrels and there wouldn’t be time to reload.
Josh rose up and slid over the top of the pool table and was
The DRMC clubhouse was like a lot of other biker clubhouses Josh had seen. There were pool tables in the center of the room and a bar against the back wall. Doors led off the various rooms and there was a staircase that opened onto a landing overlooking the bar. The place reminded Josh of the old saloons he’d seen in western movies.
Three guys were sitting at the bar with their backs to him. They were being halfheartedly served by the fattest bartender Josh had ever seen. His face was cut up and badly bruised, as if he’d recently been in a fight.
Josh cleared his throat. The three bikers at the bar looked over their shoulders at him. They were all middle-aged with broad shoulders, the DRMC patches on their backs, and beards that made them look like Vikings. None of them was Serge Gauthier.
“Who the fuck are you?” the one in the middle said.
Josh didn’t answer him. He walked with long, steady strides in their direction with such purpose and assuredness that they hesitated to react. Josh had known they would hesitate. The DRMC was a club run on fear, and fear like that always made men slow to react. It made them slow when they needed to be fast. They were all afraid that Josh might be some friend of Serge or Deuce and that he was walking toward them with such confidence because he knew none of them could get away with laying a finger on him. That was the disadvantage of having a big club and keeping your members in the dark.
Josh addressed the bartender directly.
“Are you Fat Boy?”
But he didn’t even wait for an answer. Before Fat Boy had a chance to decide what was going on Josh pulled his gun from behind his back and suddenly, Bang!
There was the slapping sound of a bullet and in the same instant one of the bikers at the bar took that bullet straight to the head. His skull exploded on impact and blood and bits of bone splattered the other men.
Before his limp body even hit the ground, Josh’s gun let off a second bullet and the man next to him suffered the same fate. A bullet struck him just above the nape of the neck and came out the front of his face and smashed the mirror facing the bar. By now, both Fat Boy and the third man at the bar were desperately ducking for cover but it did the man at the bar no good. He had nowhere to hide. He was crouched down with the bodies of his two friends and Josh didn’t even pause to look at him. He had his gun stretched out in front of him and he put two bullets in him. There was no thinking in Josh’s actions. Any thinking had been done before he entered that bar. It had been done on the ride down from Chazel, or in the bed, lying next to Rose. Now was not the time for thought. It was a time for action.
The bullets flew toward the man and hit him like stones being flung into thick tar, sinking into the flesh around his shoulders and neck. The man collapsed onto his two friends in a pool of blood that was growing by the second.
Josh was still walking toward the bar and was just ten paces from it when Fat Boy rose up from behind it. He was holding a mean looking shotgun and in the same instant that Josh dove for cover, the barrel of the shotgun exploded with a flash of actual flame.
Josh screamed in pain. Shrapnel from the shot had cut into his left shoulder and back as he’d ducked for cover. He was behind an overturned table but he knew that Fat Boy had only released one of the barrels of the gun. He leapt from where he was to get better cover behind the pool table and in the same instant the table shattered into splinters. That was it for Fat Boy. The shotgun only had two barrels and there wouldn’t be time to reload.
Josh rose up and slid over the top of the pool table and was
Similar Books
