RIDING DIRTY (Steel Titans MC Book 4) by Franca Storm (best books for students to read txt) 📗

“Fair really doesn’t seem to be much of a concern to you,” I said, referencing the guys holding me, and the fact that he’d overrun the safehouse with an army just to neutralize three targets.

“I don’t leave things to chance. Control is power. Then again, you should know that better than anybody. That’s what you’re all about, how you operate and how you thrive. It’s what makes you the best and the best is exactly what I’m in the market for.”

“You want me to work for you?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re delusional if you really believe that could ever be a possibility.”

His eyes darkened. “I can be very persuasive.”

The threat there wasn’t lost on me. And it incensed me. “Go to hell.”

He blew out a breath. “Hard way it is then.”

I braced myself for whatever punishment was about to come my way. To my surprise, it wasn’t physical. Instead, he actually stepped away from me.

But then a malicious expression spread over his face.

He fingered his radio again and commanded, “Initiate Phase Two. “

He snapped his fingers at the guys holding me and in the next second they were dragging me away from the house, way over to the garage. I fought them at every turn, until I finally managed to wrench my left arm free.

Slamming my elbow back at an angle, I clocked the guy on my left in the nose, a sharp crack told me I’d broken it. He cried out and instinctively grasped the injured area as blood started to flow from his nostrils, compromising his vision and his grip on me. I kicked him back and he stumbled back into the garage.

Then, I spun into the guy to my right, shoving hard against him, until he was forced to shift his hold. It was all I needed to use his weight against him and throw him over my shoulder. He landed hard on his back with a thud.

I started for Freeman, but the look on his face sent a chill through me.

It wasn’t intimidation. I’d never allowed myself to be a victim of that, and I never would.

No, it was the look that conveyed he knew something I didn’t know.

Something was coming. Something awful.

His dozen or so soldiers suddenly came pouring out of the house, running at top speed.

And then it happened.

A thunderous blast tore through the night.

Another.

Then another.

Flames licked the sky, exploding forth in ferocious bursts, over and over.

It was blinding.

Deafening.

It devastated the building, debris hurtling several feet into the forest every which way, glass bursting from window panes, flames raging into being.

I heard myself screaming.

Terror and pain became one.

I bolted forward, prepared to do whatever I had to, to go through whatever level of hell and pain I was dealt, in order to break through the wall of soldiers barring my way.

But I never got the chance.

In my distracted state, Freeman was able to get too close.

He descended on me and wrapped his arm around my neck in a brutal chokehold.

“Why don’t you take a load off, sugar?”

He intensified his grip, and a powerful wave of lightheadedness took me over.

I wavered on my feet.

And then everything faded away.

19

~Willa~

WEAKNESS.

That was the predominant feeling coursing through my entire being as I came to.

My eyes were more than a little reluctant to open.

As I tried to shift my weight, my limbs were unbearably heavy. The same sensation befell my head when I tried to turn it to look either side of me.

I fought through my bleary vision to figure out where the hell I was.

To my surprise, luxury surrounded me.

First off, I was sprawled out in a fancy four-poster bed, Egyptian cotton sheets covering me.

Priceless artwork in intricately carved wooden frames was hung around the room. White marble tile covered the floors. The place had that whole minimalist design going for it. Uncluttered, with choice pieces of oddly shaped furniture, just a sleek metal-topped table and a high-legged chest of drawers with a smooth onyx top.

The place was completely unrecognizable to me and that made it dangerous.

In my urgency, I fought against the weakness plaguing my body to sit up, only to find resistance.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered when I saw that a heavy-duty metal cuff encircled my right wrist. I studied it, determining that it was bound to the frame of the bed.

I was a prisoner.

Memories of Blake Freeman’s attack on my safehouse surfaced, inundating me all too quickly.

Terror gripped me.

Slade and Ricky!

They’d been inside the property when Freeman’s guys had blown it to hell.

Had they made it to the extraction tunnel in time?

Ricky could have, because I’d stationed him in close proximity to it. But Slade? No, the probability was miniscule, because I’d stationed him far over on the west side of the property.

Oh my God. Was he… had he… no, I couldn’t go there. I’d let someone get close to me, so damn close to me, deep down into my heart and soul, for the first time in my life. The idea that he could be… gone… was incomprehensible.

And it wasn’t something I could entertain right now.

I was being held captive for fuck’s sakes. I had to keep my head in the game. It was all I had, given that my body was clearly compromised. I could barely lift a finger at the moment. All I had left were my wits.

I sucked in a breath to get a hold of myself, then I concentrated until my breathing was no longer labored and the panting finally subsided, my heartrate calming.

Next, I forced my thoughts only to the immediate situation.

Simple deduction pointed to Blake Freeman being my captor. No doubt, I’d find out soon enough. There were heavy gray curtains covering the large floor-to-ceiling windows over on the other side of the room adjacent to an open door through which an ensuite bathroom was visible. If I’d been able to access the view through the windows, I’d have something to go on as to a location. The only other source of intel