Reckless Truths – Lost Kings MC Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Biker, Mafia, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
<<<<6979878889909199109>133
Advertisement2


I sling the pack over my shoulder, holster the gun at my side, and pound downstairs. The vest I need is in another safe along with an assortment of long guns.

Merlin said the place was a camp. So we’ll either be outside or searching small tents and buildings? My fingers briefly brush against my hunting rifle. But then I choose my KSG bullpup shotgun, instead. Its small size will make it easier to use in tight spaces and the dual tubes will allow me to have more rounds available if the situation gets dicey. I grab my bulletproof vest, a knit cap, and rush out of the house. A few minutes later, I’m in my truck headed to meet my brothers.

Everyone’s waiting in the side parking lot at Ward’s grocery store.

Rock leaves his bike and climbs into my truck.

“You’re going to sit in the passenger seat?” I ask, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

“Guess I finally trust you.” He motions to the windshield like he’s ready to go right now. “Stop fucking around.”

Rooster pulls up next to me in his truck. The big diesel shakes everything in the immediate area. Merlin’s in the passenger side, wearing a sour expression. I leave my truck running, grab the backpack of cash, and jump out.

“Here’s the cash.”

Merlin opens the door and I toss the pack in his lap.

“How do I know this big, bearded fucker isn’t going to gut me and leave me by the side of the road?” He jerks his thumb toward Rooster.

“You don’t!” Rooster shouts. “That’s what makes it so exciting.”

I snort-laugh, flip a thumbs-up at Rooster, and slide behind the wheel again.

Murphy climbs into the back seat and slams the door with a harsh thump. “Let’s go.”

Grinder, Jigsaw, and Dex take off ahead of us on their bikes. Wrath and Z follow in Wrath’s truck. Rooster goes next and I pull out of the parking lot last.

“We should’ve brought his toe,” Murphy says. “Coulda brought him to Ironworks Emergency Room on the way home.”

“I think a toe is the least of Carter’s concerns right now,” Rock says.

That kills the conversation for a while.

It’s a long fucking ride to Vermont.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Teller

“What the fuck is this?” Rock mutters. “Looks like an abandoned garbage dump.”

“Smells like one too,” Z says, pinching his nose.

I step out of the shadows of the grove of ancient maple trees giving us cover and scan the vast area. “A backwoods meth-making camp.”

“This is why making meth is bad, m’kay, kids,” Wrath says in his best Mr. Mackey voice.

“Jesus.” I step up onto a large, flat bolder and lift my binoculars, searching for any sign of Carter. Nothing but old, rusted campers and trailers dotting an open field of overgrown weeds and hilly slopes. Piles of trash and empty cans tangle in long blades of grass. Circles of dirt and fried grass mar the land like mangy spots on a dog. Piles of burned logs and rings of stones indicate they risk using some areas of their campground for bonfires. Glass from shattered bottles glitters in the dusky light.

Twigs and dried brush crackle under my feet as I jump off the rock and return to the safety of the trees. “One spark and this whole camp will go up in flames.”

Wrath pulls a lighter out of his pocket. “Let’s save that for later.”

“You see anything?” Murphy asks me.

“Nothing useful. There have to be ten or fifteen trailers set up. No way to tell which one Carter might be in. Or where they store the pregnant chicks.”

“Shit,” Rock mutters, turning toward the circle of dirty and broken blacktop where we’d parked our vehicles.

“Pretty much,” Z says.

Rock snarls at him.

“Easy.” Z holds up his hands. “I want him back too, Rock.”

“I didn’t see any movement,” I continue. “I gotta imagine they left at least one person guarding Carter.”

Rock glances at the seven of us. “Let’s split up into two teams. We’ll do a sweep and clear each trailer. See if we find anyone we can pry Carter’s location out of.” He pulls a hunting knife from my glove compartment and flips it in the air, catching it neatly by the handle. “Using any means necessary.”

“I’m down with that,” Murphy agrees.

“What do you want to do if we find the girl?” Z asks.

“If she’s hostile, leave her ass here,” Rock says. “Carter’s my main concern. If we find her, and she wants out, we’ll take her.”

Wrath’s gaze strays to the open field again. “She shoots at me, I’m shooting back.”

“Let’s try not to shoot unless we know what we’re shooting at. I don’t want Carter catching a bullet.” Rock glances toward the camp again. “And we don’t want to strike anything that might light this place up.”

Wrath nods.

We’re all aware of how flammable the chemicals used to make meth can be. And how unstable the people making the shit are after having their brains rotted out on the fumes.


Advertisement3

<<<<6979878889909199109>133

Advertisement4