Shooter Read Online Free Books Dahlia West (Burnout, #1)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Erotic, Funny, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Burnout Series by Dahlia West
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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Chris looked back at the swinging door and then once again at Thomas. "How the fuck she manage that?"

"Left through the back," Thomas informed him, his attention returning to the burger that was in danger of becoming a boot.

"Fuck," Chris mumbled, shoving past Thomas and making it to the rear door of the bar in four long strides. He flung it open, stepped out, and looked around. Not finding Hayley, he stepped back into the kitchen and slammed the door. He stormed out the swinging door.

The boys, having seen him leaving sans Hayley and registering the look on his face as he stomped out, got up to follow him. No chance would they miss an opportunity to rag on him about being rejected by a sassy little nothing of a girl.

"Shooter," Doc called, laughter in his voice.

"Shooter got shot down!" Hawk cackled.

Chris shook his head and threw his leg over his ride. "Didn't shoot me down. She left."

Doc stopped laughing. "Left?"

"Out the back door. Into the alley."

"Shit," Doc grumbled, making his way to his own bike.

The four of them roared off down the street toward the Rainbow motel. Chris was seriously considering spanking Slick's ass when he got hold of her, even though that was normallyTex’s purview. What the fuck was she thinking walking back in the dark? Goddamn woman didn't have a lick of sense.

As they cruised, his anger was slowly turning to an unsettling feeling that he would not name fear, but was too close to it to be comfortable. They should have come upon her by now. Alone, carrying that large duffel, she should not, could not, have gotten even this far. Not on foot.

He pulled into the Rainbow's dark-ass parking lot and killed his engine. Without waiting for the others, he stepped off the bike and headed straight for the Office.

Doc flashed his badge and they were told Slick's room number. Chris barely waited for the night clerk to finish rattling off the numbers. He took the stairs to the second level two at a time and arrived at her door within seconds. He knocked. Loudly.

He was sure it was useless. She couldn't have made it six blocks in that amount of time. God damn her!

When there was no answer, he tried again. Banging on the door with his fist. "Slick!" he bellowed. "Open this fucking door if you're in there!"

Shockingly, he heard her voice from beyond the door. "Mr. Sullivan?"

"Jesus Christ," Doc said in relief. Hawk and Tex visibly relaxed.

"What- what are you doing here?" she called out.

"Open this door. Now," Chris demanded.

She hesitated. "Mr. Sullivan, it's late and-"

"Slick. I swear to fucking Christ above if you don't open this door and let me get a look at you, I will break it the fuck down."

***************************

Hayley jerked back from the door at his words. She checked the peephole again, and again saw all three of Shooter's companions standing with him. What the fuck was going on? And there was no way in hell she was letting them in. She looked around, upset that she had only arrived back at the room minutes before and had not had time to pull the dresser in front of the door.

Biting her lip, she took a deep breath. "You need to leave. All of you."

Shooter muttered something she couldn't quite make out and suddenly there was a strange tapping on the door. It sounded like metal. A scream caught in her throat. A knife. He had a knife. And he was here for her.

"Hayley," another, calmer voice, stated firmly. One she didn't recognize. "Look through the peephole again, sweetie."

Hayley stood frozen for a moment then slowly, reluctantly, leaned up on her toes. The darker haired man standing next to Chris was holding up a badge. A badge. Not a knife. Better. But not by a whole hell of a lot, she decided.

Well. She hadn't done anything wrong. She'd paid for the room. She hadn't stolen anything or broken any laws other than tax evasion. She wasn't sure, but she thought maybe RCPD had better things to do than go after undocumented workers.

She pulled her hoodie tighter around her, and opened the door. "I-" she stammered. "I didn't do anything."

"Take the chain off the door," the cop requested.

Hayley frowned at him. "But-"

"Hayley," the cop said, growing impatient. "I want to see inside your room."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"To see if you're alone."

Hayley bit her lip, shut the door, and slid the chain off the door. Shooter shoved his way in immediately. The cop followed, less agitated than his friend. The other two remained outside. Hayley stood as close to the door as she could and still be inside the room. Cop or no, she was ready to bolt.

"What the fuck was going through your head?!" Shooter roared.

"Shooter," the cop warned.

Hayley flinched. "What?"


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