Rush - Blue Devils MC Book 2 (Book 1 Included FREE for a short time only!) Read Online Free PDF

advantage, but he had to be careful. “Turn slowly towards me,” he said in a low voice, and the Chupa turned towards him, syringe in his right hand, pointing at the ceiling.
    “Drop the syringe and kick it towards me,” Rush demanded, and the Chupa’s eyes darted from side to side, clearly trying to decide whether he could escape or not. “ Don’t test me,” Rush warned, and the Chupa dropped the syringe to the floor where it clattered loudly. Rush winced from the sound. Goddamn asshole!
    Keeping his piece trained on the Chupa , Rush walked forward and kicked the syringe behind him, further down the hallway. Away from the piece of shit who wanted to kill his Blue. Keeping the gun in his right hand, he felt around behind him until he could find the door handle and pull down. The sign next to the door had stated “Supply Closet,” which seemed like as good of a place as any to store an unwanted Chupa . Who knew when a hospital employee might need a worthless goddamn son-of-a-bitch bastard, right?
    The door swung open silently behind him and Rush stepped to the side, out of the way, back into the hallway. “Walk forward slowly. Hands in the air. Any sudden moves and I shoot your pathetic black heart out.” The Chupa gave one jerk of the head to show his acknowledgement and then walked forward, past Rush, and into the closet. Rush shoved the gun against the man’s skull and he stiffened.
    “You’re part of the Chupacabra gang from Mexico, right?” The man hesitated for a moment and then gave an abrupt nod. “You’re here to kill Hannah Wright?” The Chupa didn’t respond, and Rush realized that he probably had no idea who Blue was. “You’re here to kill the schoolteacher who lived?” he asked, amending his question. This time, the Chupa nodded reluctantly. After Rush shoved the gun a little harder into his skull to give him a little incentive, of course.
    Rush looked around the closet. Goddamn motherfuckers, I can’t shoot a gun in a hospital. I don’t care what the movies portray - pillows don’t do a goddamn thing to muffle the sound. I’d have the police and the nurses and half the free world breathing down my neck in roughly 1.5 seconds if I were to try that stunt.
    Finally, his eyes settled on a shelf of bandages and a smile spread across his face. With a sharp jerk of his arm, he brought the butt of the gun down onto the Chupa’s skull and the asshole crumpled to the ground. Rush tucked the handgun back into his waistband and then began grabbing boxes of long white bandages off the shelf. Exactly the kind of bandage that Blue currently had wrapped around her head because of these assholes. It was a poetic kind of justice, really.
    Minutes later, he stood back to admire his handiwork. The unconscious Chupa had the stretchy white bandages wrapped around his wrists, knees, and ankles, and quite a few more wrapped around his head. Like Blue’s, but lower. More in, say, the mouth region. He’d stuffed some gauze in the guy’s mouth before beginning the wrapping project, and he was fairly damn sure that when this man woke up, he’d regret his choice to be a Chupa . Or to be alive, for that matter.
    He dragged the thug over to the corner, pulling dirty laundry out of the way, shoved him into a ball, and piled the dirty laundry back on top of him. Perfect. No one would discover him for a while, at least not until Blue and he were long gone.
    Rush grabbed boxes of bandages and gauze, then left the supply closet, closing the door behind him quietly. No reason to wake up the bastard before he had to. The longer that guy stayed quiet and still in the corner, the better. Rush picked up the syringe from the hallway floor and then, juggling the items, managed to open Blue’s door. He dumped his armload into her giant purse - some things never change - and then pulled out his phone. 3:32 a.m. Lain was going to appreciate a phone call at this time of night like he’d appreciate a Chupa showing up on his