Ridin' Dirty Read Online Free PDF Page A

of their low-level members. Five years ago, a grief-stricken Dax had used his fists, dragging rivals off their bikes and beating them into comas in the street until Kane showed himself.
    This time, the cold fury radiated off him, and the entire MC knew there would be no truce. Either Dax or Kane would be dead before sunrise, and the losing club would be decimated.
    The Outlaws retaliated, running two shipment trucks off the road. The first flipped three blocks from Hades, already loaded with guns and coke. The engine caught fire, and the cargo was lost, but the Outlaws managed to force the second off the road. Like pirates on the high seas, they snatched the spoils for themselves, leaving the driver and guard dead in the road.
    A few younger members who didn’t yet know their place had complained about Dax burning the city over a piece of ass. Rico broke the nose of the objector, growling, “Would you want to ride under someone who would let an insult like this stand from the Outlaws? You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us.”
    Kane had kept out of sight deliberately, wanting the Diablos spread thin across the city and Dax off balance with anger.
    And still Dax rode, circling the city and searching for Kane’s blood-red bike.
    At dawn, he found it.
    ***
    Dax wasn’t the only one off balance.
    Still cuffed to that beam in the basement, my whole body ached. I flexed my fingers behind my back, trying to keep circulation going in my hands. My head throbbed with every beat of my heart. Movies make getting knocked out look like something you bounce back from in a few minutes, but the waves of pain and nausea kept coming and I could feel the stickiness of blood from where the punch cut my scalp.
    I had watched enough doctor shows on TV to know I probably had a concussion. Every moment was a fight to stay awake, and the endless darkness of the room didn’t help. A tiny part of me almost wanted Kane to come back. At least he would turn the light on.
    I could hear heavy footsteps on the floor above me. I thought about screaming, but the only people who might hear me would just come downstairs and punch me again. I couldn’t take another hit without passing out or worse.
    I closed my eyes and prayed for Dax to find me soon.
    ***
    Kane’s bike waited out front, parked like a bold beacon laid out to catch Dax’s eye. A broken-down house in a low-rent neighborhood, this was the type of place the police never bothered to patrol. The whole block could go up in flames and 911 would still take half the day to arrive. No one could ask for a better place for a showdown.
    Rico, Johnny and Ray hung back, waiting for Dax’s signal with a few other members as backup. Dax dismounted and the others followed suit. A swift kick shattered the lock on the cheap door and the Diablos opened fire.
    Six men waited inside, all armed, all ready for this attack. Two went down right away. A third got off a shot that took Ray in the shoulder before Rico put a slug through his neck. The hail of gunfire continued, but Kane was nowhere to be seen. Johnny checked the other two rooms.
    “Empty,” he muttered. “Where the fuck are they?” He noticed the basement door hanging ajar, an unlocked padlock dangling from the handle. Gesturing to Dax, the two men descended the stairs.
    Kane waited at the bottom, his arm coiled around a limp Blanca and his Glock against her throat. “I wouldn’t do that Dax,” he spat, clicking the safety off the gun. “One more step and I give her a new hole for you to fuck.”
    “Your men are dead. Your labs are gone. You fucked with the wrong club, Kane.” Dax’s voice was flat, but a cold fury emanated from him. “Let her go, and I’ll make it quick.”
    Kane chuckled. “Why would I do that? I didn’t make it quick for your father,” he taunted. Dax took a step forward, death in his eyes, and Kane jammed the gun harder into Blanca’s neck. “Not another step. Drop the gun. Yours too, old man.”
    Slowly,