Diesel (Reckless Souls MC #11) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Reckless Souls MC Series by KB Winters
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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Lucky’s fists tighten into fists on top of the table, and a low growl escapes.

I turn back to Ace. “This needs to be done, and I can see if the load is still there.”

“I’ll go with him,” Dix offers to sweeten the pot. “It’s not a long ride.”

“Get someone to take that fucking truck before the cops do if our load is still in it,” Ace says by way of an answer. “You have one day. Twenty-four hours, and then you come back no matter what you find.”

“Twenty-four hours. Got it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns us both. “We can’t afford to have anybody locked up right now. Feel me?”

“Yep,” I answer, ready to get on the road and find out what the fuck happened to Cassidy. I barely pay attention as we go through other MC business before Ace officially adjourns Church.

“I hope you’re right about this chick,” Lucky says as we empty out of the Sanctuary. “But it ain’t lookin’ good.”

“Right now, it don’t look like shit but a missing driver and an abandoned truck.” I stop and turn to face my brother. “And what if I’m right, Lucky? What if she was taken by those assholes because of us when she doesn’t have shit to do with us? What then?”

“Then we’ll do what we have to do. Right now, that’s not what it looks like.”

I roll my eyes. “Because you’re so blinded by the fact that this starts at Aria’s company. She wasn’t taken, and guess what, if that load is gone, it’s also on us, so if you can’t say something helpful right now, please just shut the fuck up.” I don’t wait for Lucky to respond because it’s clear we’re just not gonna agree on this, and that’s fine.

Dix comes up to me, his eyes full of questions that I don’t want to fucking talk about right now. “Ready to head out?”

“Fuck, yeah. But we ought to stop and load up first.” The area where Cassidy’s truck is located isn’t exactly friendly territory, and we need to be safe. Don’t know who might be following us.

Dix nods his agreement. “Coop’s gonna meet us at the armory, and Shades is on the phone with a driver who’ll meet us at the rig.”

We hop on our bikes and head north. The entire time I hope this is all a big misunderstanding. I would never say it to my brother, but I would rather his version be the truth.

Being double-crossed by a chick is a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cassidy

I wake up still in the dark closet, unsure of what time it is or how long I’ve been in this fucking place. I suspect it’s been a couple days, but I haven’t eaten a damn thing since I got thrown in here. All I have is a bottle of water someone left for me shortly after Tiny took those pictures. There’s been no conversations or real noise aside from the sounds of people partying below me, which I think means I must be in a house. Upstairs.

But where?

Footsteps sound just outside the door before it opens with such intensity I think it’s going to fly right off the hinges. I look up instantly, but the figure is big—even bigger than Tiny. He blocks out all the light before he jams something over my head.

It’s not soft fabric; it feels like heavy-duty canvas and blocks out the light as I’m yanked to my feet by a pair of big hands. My feet barely touch the ground as they drag me from the closet.

I squirm as much as possible, trying to shake loose the hood so I can see something. “Hey, slow down!”

With a grunt, the big guy yanks me under one arm, dragging me somewhere. I feel like I’m being led down a hall. Door hinges squeak, and I’m flung inside, falling to my knees and then on my face because my arms are still bound behind my back.

“Stay here.” The big fucker’s voice is softer than I thought it would be, but it still has that don’t fucking test me tone that I’ve come to know well.

I stay flat on the floor with my hands behind my back, waiting to see what happens next. He grips my forearm, and two sharp jerks later, my hands are free. I flip over quickly and find a giant man glaring down at me. Broad shoulders, angry brows, and a tattoo that covers the front of his neck peg him as a gangbanger. “Eat, and don’t try anything funny.”

My gaze follows his finger to a small nightstand with a plate on top of it containing what looks like carne asada tacos.

“There ain’t shit funny about any of this,” I mumble as I get to my feet slowly. My legs are shaky since I’ve been sitting for at least twenty-four hours. “How long have I been here?”


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