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Hunter (The Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club) by Nikki Wild (121)

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Let me tell you: waking up to pitch-black darkness while gagging on a cloud of pepper spray ain’t a good way to come back.

At first, I stumbled through the darkness toward the angry voices of my club outside before remembering the flashlight on my cellphone. Lighting my path forward, I knew the truth.

The bitch up and went with that fucking nomad

Before I could continue my walk through this cloud of choking shit, something caught my ear.

The distant rumble of a Harley.

That fucker

It’s gotta be that biker prick

Ooh, how the blood boiled in my veins!

I turned, following the sound down the hall and past some old crates, finally bursting out into the back alley while gasping for breath. I was just in time to watch the two of them roll of into the darkness on his bike.

Fuck!

I bolted around the side of the building. If I could get to my bike I could give chase and sneak up on the asshole on the open road… I made my way across the street to the closest warehouse as fast as I could manage with my lungs burning and eyes stinging. As I came across the parking lot where we parked all our bikes, I quickly realized they weren’t going to be doing me any good. The fucker must have known we’d come after him. Every last bike was sitting on rims, the tires slashed through and destroyed.

I glanced around for an alternative, quickly spotting Tread’s old beater car nearby.

Fucker might be expecting a bike

I ran over to it and shattered the driver window with the butt of my gun before popping the lock and jumping inside. It had been awhile since I hotwired a car, but I knew I wouldn’t need to. Tread wasn’t much for brains, and he sure as shit kept a spare set of keys on the car. I flipped down the visor and came up empty, then threw open the glove compartment. I’d hit paydirt, pulling the keys and a small taser from the glove.

Tread, you’re too good to me. Sorry I have to take your ride, but you’ll understand.

I fired the shitbox up and noticed the tank was full. I had plenty of gas for what I needed to do. I knew where they were heading, too. Grizz would take my little bitch west, and there’s only one road headed out that way.

I tossed the taser into the cup holder and pulled out of the garage to chase my woman down.

Think you’re so smart, huh? Punk ass biker. Got another thing coming, buddy

Didn’t matter how smart he was.

I wasn’t about to let him take her back to those bastards. She was being a little hard, but I knew that my girl would see the way things really were soon enough.

I pushed the accelerator to the floor, roaring down after them. It wasn’t long before I was on the interstate, flicking the little piece of shit cage from lane to lane to catch up. They had a couple of minutes on me, but chances were that they weren’t stopping off anywhere anytime soon

There.

I spotted them two cars ahead, shifting lanes. Now that I knew where they were, I could hang tight and let them think they’d gotten away for good

It gave me all the time in the world to think about how I was going to make him beg for his fucking life.

I’d put that asshole on his knees.

He’d cry like a little sissy bitch.

I’d be the bigger man, of course. With my pistol against the back of his head, I’d make it a quick one if he told me to my face that I was the better man.

If he apologized a dozen times over, I’d give it to him nice and clean. Two bullets in the back of the skull would drop that stubborn ass-wipe to the ground.

One bullet for confusing my woman.

The other one for attacking the club.

If I had the men with me, I could just toss the sonuvabitch in the swamp and let the gators do their thing, but I’d just have to make do on my own. He was a big guy, so I’d probably have to work at rolling him into the ditch that would be his motherfucking grave.

That’s right, I thought to myself.

This ain’t just about me no more.

It’s about the sanctity of the club

I would take care of this Devil’s Dragon for Gridlock’s sake. Then he’d have to promote me to right-hand man.

When the old fucker kicked it, I’d be in charge of the club. The Bayou Boys would be mine.

Bayou Boys motorcycle club president...

I liked the sound of that.

I switched lanes, staying just out of sight of my prey.

This big fucker is smart.

But I am smarter.

And all I had to do was hang back here, waiting to see what they’d do next

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