Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Street limped, still holding the barrel to the side where Gamble stood protected by the metal shielding Lucien had required to build the outer walls surrounding the warehouse area. When his adrenaline allowed him, Street dropped the makeshift shield, refusing to look at it. He didn’t want to know how many times those bastards had shot at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked Gamble as the Ravagers banged on the gate outside, searching for any vulnerability or target.
“I have no clue,” Gamble admitted, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Turn around slowly.” Street scanned the other man and shook his head. “I don’t see anything but this nick here.” He pointed to a streak across Gamble’s right biceps.
“What about you?” Gamble asked. “Grabbing that barrel probably saved your life.”
“I’m going to check how many bullets made their way through the first side. Tomorrow. Got my boot in that last stupid move I made.”
“Ouch.”
“I think the steel toe of my boot stopped the round. I’ll pull the shoe off later to check. What else can we do to fortify this?”
“Let me electrify the entrance now that you’re not touching the metal.” Gamble hit a button, and immediately two high-pitched screams sounded on the other side. They both smiled, enjoying their rivals’ pain. “That should keep them out. Come on. Let’s go this way. Can you walk if I help you?” Gamble wrapped his arm around Street’s waist and started hauling him around the perimeter toward the inner section of the warehouse area.
“Thanks.” Street rested some of his weight on his brother to speed their progress.
Two of their brothers lay stretched out on the pavement as Razor worked on them. From the look of the tourniquets around one’s arm and the other’s leg, they’d been hit. Hopefully nothing life-threatening.
“Where’d you get hit?” Razor yelled at Street.
The observant doctor had already spotted his limp and Gamble’s support. “My boot.”
“Get over here and sit your ass down. Take that boot off,” Razor ordered.
“Hey! Some of these containers have bullet holes,” Vex hollered.
“Where’s Street? We need to get them unloaded and checked out,” Lucien called.
“Two minutes,” Razor yelled before jumping to his feet and heading for Street.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Street almost had his boot removed by the time Razor reached him. The doctor pushed Street’s hands away and eased the footwear off. A second later, his sock hit the pavement.
“You lucky bastard,” Razor said. “That bullet missed you but bent the protective metal. I need to clean and bandage where your steel toe bit into your skin as well as treat your hands, but the cuts aren’t critical.”
“Later.” Street pushed himself to his feet as Razor returned to the other men. An almost silent whir of a bullet came from overhead. A shout followed on the other side of the gate. Dead Eye had reached a position to pick off the Ravagers who still attempted to breach the barrier.
Shuffling as fast as he could on one bare, wounded foot, Street headed for his machine. By the time he reached the forklift, the sounds of Ravagers’ bikes had dwindled. They’d given up and retreated. Grinning at their defeat, Street started the engine. He tested his foot to figure out how to use it with the least pain.
Lucien jumped up to talk to him on the side rail as Street drove toward the three flatbeds. “We can’t take the time to move them inside. Scatter them across the pavement, and we’ll open each one immediately to check for damage.”
“Got it.” Street didn’t have time to wonder what they held.
The MC president jumped off when he slowed to line up the forks with the first storage container. Street hoisted the box into the air carefully. He worked as quickly as he could while maintaining each heavy load level. Gritting his teeth with effort, Street could feel the contents moving as he shifted them onto the ground. Wraith stood by with bolt cutters as Street set the first one down.
Pushing his curiosity about what was inside to the furthest point of his attention, Street headed for the second one as soon as he had the forks free. He was placing the third container on the ground when he saw them. Thin figures barely covered with ragged clothing. Anger and the need for revenge filled Street as he absorbed human beings had been sealed in metal boxes after horrible treatment. Forcing himself to hold his shit together, Street set the container gently on the concrete and reversed to go grab the next one.
Razor stood at the entrance of the second container. The doctor rapidly assessed each person as one of his brothers helped them out. Where had these containers come from? How long had these people survived?
Long hair flopped over Pirate’s arm as the biker carried a slight figure out into the faint light of the dawn. “She’s shot, Razor!”