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this area?”
    “Sorry, boss.”
    “Well, keep your
fingers crossed ‘cause I have an idea those guys are gonna catch up with us
before the night’s over.”
    “Do you think we
should just ditch it?”
    “You kidding?”
Luke asks.
    “No, I’m not.
Ditch it, burry the guns and live to fight another day. You got their number,
right? Well, call them to set up a meeting in a couple days after the Harbingers
or whoever those guys were back there are gone.”
    “Good idea,
Carter, except that we have four crates of guns and no shovels. Unless you plan
on digging with your fingernails, you’re going to have to come up with a plan
B.”
    The next couple hours
are just about the longest in Luke’s life. There are so many things that can go
wrong tonight. If a cop happens by, there’s no way he’s not going to see the
nearly destroyed windshield. By the time they finally reach the drop point,
both men are a nervous wreck. The second they explain the destroyed windshield
to the receiving crew, the men get back in their SUVs and split, only to call
them a few minutes later with an alternate location. They actually do it two
more times before they allow Carter and Luke to unload their cargo.
    The two bikes in
the back got knocked around but are still okay to ride. Good thing too, because
they have an 8-hour ride ahead of them. It’s nearly dawn before they’re able to
head back home. Neither man is looking forward to breaking the news to the club
about Marty. He was a popular new member and his loss will be felt. As a token
for all their troubles, the client allows Luke and Carter to each keep the
H&K’s they had taken. Carter wanted to keep the LAWs Rocket as well, but no
chance of that.
    When they pull up
to their clubhouse, dusty and exhausted, it’s nearly four in the afternoon and
all they want to do is sleep. Gunnar makes them tell and retell their story
until he is satisfied they’ve told him everything. He is, of course, trying to
figure out who the bikers that attacked them were. They all suspect the
Harbingers, but there’s no solid proof. Some brothers want to drive out there
and check out the scene for clues as to the bikers’ identity, but it’s finally
decided that it would be too risky. The cops will likely have the area taped
off and staked out in case the perpetrators return to the scene of the crime. 
    Marty’s service is
a low key affair and the brothers forgive and forget the fact that he shot
their hostage when Luke and Carter tell them their wildly embellished tale of
bravery surrounding Marty’s death. No point in telling how he really died,
screaming in terror and falling a thousand feet into the ocean.

Chapter Six
Constant Chaos

     
    Kayla goes down
hard, her body barely breaking the fall before her head strikes the floor hard
enough to make her sees stars. As she fights to stay conscious, her small frame
is crushed beneath the tall muscular biker, Dillon Jones, Sergeant of Arms for
the Harbingers Motorcycle Club.
    Using his weight,
he forces her legs apart and enters her with a powerful thrust. The man is a
machine, a veritable jackhammer of thrusting force as he rams his rigid member
deep into her sex. His hands are everywhere at once. He grabs her hair yanking
her head back and bats away her arms as she tries unsuccessfully to fend him
off. He’s tearing, ripping into what clothes she still has on until remnants of
Calvin Klein and Versace litter the floor.
    Dillon’s love
making, if you could even call it that, wasn’t always so violent. Sure, there
had always been an element of brutality just beneath the surface, but it
usually didn’t erupt into sheer savagery like today. It’s ferocity, bordering
on sadism, that has her truly terrified and if she were to lose
consciousness…well, that would not be good.
    Suddenly, he
stops. He’s looking into her eyes. Perhaps it’s her terrified expression she
can see mirrored in his own eyes that gives him pause; but he stops. Maybe