Auctioned to the Lumberjacks Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors: Stephanie Brother Advertisement1

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“Get that fucking asshole,” Reggie says.

He’s loyal to the men around here who put food on his table with their custom and provide backup when he needs it. That’s the Shadow Outlaws, and us lumberjacks. But Carter propositioning his daughters who work behind the bar, scoping for fresh flesh for his shit hole of an establishment, has made this about revenge for him, too.

“We will.”

I push my hair back from my face and secure it behind my head in a messy knot. A woman laughs as she drapes herself over Brian, who owns the local hardware store, and he runs his meaty hand over her exposed thigh. The music is loud, and a tune about freedom blares over the speakers.

So much is resting on me tonight.

My hands itch for an ax to swing but I head out into the darkness, instead, seeking the cool air to quiet my racing thoughts.

It’s almost eight pm.

Everyone is in place, armed and ready with a mix of baseball bats, knuckle dusters, blades, and guns. The wind has died down, and the trees stand and wait like my comrades amongst them. Darkly dressed and well concealed, Aiden, Liam, Marcus, and Nathan are waiting for the signal. The lamps cast the area with just enough visibility for the lumberjacks to keep watch on the lot.

West is in the bar by the window, surveying the front of the building; we couldn’t risk him outside after his visit to Carter’s dive. He’s there to keep a lid on Ethan who’s going to play an important role tonight. Not that he knows about it. When the time is right, West will stage an argument with Ethan, and Reggie will throw him out the rear door. That will be the signal for everyone to move in.

The ambush will be totally unexpected.

Skye and Shona are upstairs in a back room, lying low.

I don’t think Shona is a double-crosser, but Skye is armed, just in case.

Bones sits on his Indian Scout Bomber facing the rear door to the bar, a Viking of a man at the ready. He has removed his helmet and rested it on his knee as he waits. Lester and Arman flank him on either side, similarly armed and ready. They want this arsehole and his crew driven out of town on a permanent basis as much as I do.

There’s a stash of cash tightly bound in a series of bundles in a case between Bones and Lester. It will be handed over when Carter delivers the anticipated methamphetamines in a quantity large enough to put the bastard and his crew away for a very long time.

Damn the motherfucker for bringing his filthy drugs into our forest town like he owns the place.

The irony of using Bill as part of the plan makes me smile. Amphetamines were his weakness back in the day, and his weakness cost me my career. My stepfather used them, too. He always fucked me up worse when he was coming off a high.

I think about Hallie and the danger she’s in, living with a father like Carter. No child should be raised against this type of backdrop.

Carter’s going to pay the price for all his actions tonight.

Rage courses through me at the misery he’s caused Skye.

Clamping my eyes tightly shut, I grit my teeth, focusing on the bitter night air. I raise and drop my shoulders, relax my hands, and open my eyes to peer again into the darkness.

An owl hooting in the distance reminds me that this is my home, my turf. Skye and Hallie belong to me, West, and Finn now. It’s time to set them free.

A dark Overfinch Land Rover Defender crawls slowly into the parking lot, its lights off but still decipherable under the low lighting.

It rolls smoothly over the gravel and takes up position in a back corner where the driver cuts the engine and sits silently, a shadow waiting in the darkness. The blackened windows conceal their occupant but offer him a clear view of the lot.

My right eye twitches involuntarily from exhaustion and anticipation. Adrenaline keeps me bolstered as I stand in wait at the side of the building.

Sweat trickles down my spine. I haven’t felt like this since getting busted with Bill.

I force away a swelling rage, reminding myself that tonight is when I can begin to lay this ghost to rest. And maybe another.

The passenger door of the Defender opens an inch, and I stalk, concealed by the darkness, and hop up and inside in one stealthy move, closing the door silently. The interior smells like cigarettes and Bill’s stifling brand of cologne. I rest my rifle down the side of my seat.

Turning to look at Bill, I narrow my eyes, wanting to find any kind of tell that he might be double-crossing me. It’d be a risky strategy, but Bill was never afraid of risk.


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