UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8) - Hayley Faiman (rooftoppers TXT) 📗

in front of us. We follow behind since we have no fucking idea how to get to where we’re going.

First stop is the guns. Bones has his own system here. Although the Beasts have full control and get a cut of the business Bones does, Dragon lets him operate pretty solo, considering they’ve been trustworthy thus far. I don’t blame him, but at the same time, I don’t think I could ever fully trust a Skull.

The ride to their storage unit is only a few minutes and this time we do disengage from our bikes as he opens up the rolling door to the metal building. I’m taken aback by the sheer volume of firepower that he has lining the walls, and the tables that he has set up and covered in gun after gun, after gun.

“Brother, I think you haven’t been telling me exactly what you’ve been up to around here,” Dragon says after whistling at the sight.

Bones only laughs. “My accounting has been on point. Not a number out of place. But I’m here to build an empire, not fuck around.”

“Apparently not,” Dragon grunts as he walks around the building and surveys the equipment. “Seems you’ve been making good contacts, and doing good sales.”

“Only because we have the Savage Beast name backing us, and you know that.”

It’s Dragon’s turn to chuckle and he looks back over his shoulder at Bones. “And that’s the way it’ll stay.”

“Business is too fucking good not to.”

“Good.”

“This club is sketchy,” Bones begins. “They’ve been hounding me for this deal for months. I’m relenting only because the money is so goddamn good.”

“You’re just telling us this now?” Silver asks, rubbing the still fresh bullet wound he has from the Punchers.

Bones grins. “Yeah, but that’s why I needed you guys along with me. They won’t fuck with us, not in these numbers. They’re a smaller club, fairly new. Veterans, or so they claim.”

“Don’t they all?” Mountain grumbles.

Dragon growls. “Bones, we could have had Worm check them out, vet them. What the fuck, man? This is not cool, sending us in there goddamn blind.”

“Had a couple brothers on them for weeks, Dragon. They’ve been watching them, day in and day out. Not a second without eyes on them. It’s the only reason I’ve finally agreed to this sale.”

“I hope you don’t fuck us, and neither do they,” Mountain barks.

Nobody says anything else, the truck is loaded down with firepower and we surround it as we head the fuck toward Albuquerque. We have no goddamn clue what we’re heading into, but we’re going in balls deep.

I just hope this doesn’t fuck us in the end. I think we’ve had enough of that shit lately. We need a goddamn break. I just want this weekend to come. I want to be able to move into the modular with my pregnant woman.

Then in a few weeks, she’ll be my wife, she just doesn’t know it yet. Worm has been working on documentation for her, getting her a license and birth certificate. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably never be able to marry her.

I told her she could probably go down to the courthouse and get a copy of her birth certificate, but she told me she didn’t even want to see the real thing, not ever. I didn’t push her, I hate my father with a goddamn passion, but he wasn’t nearly as vile as Riot. I couldn’t imagine if he was and how I would feel about that.

So, Worm offered to throw some fake names on there and create a new one, a whole new fucking identity for her. She’s got no credit cards, no school records, nothing to prove she even exists so this way she can be whoever the fuck she wants to be.

We’re just a few miles outside of the clubhouse when all of the guys pull off to the side with jerks. A couple guys even have to lay down their bikes. I turn and almost have to do the same.

Looking ahead, I blink at what I see.

Holy fucking shit.

Chapter Thirty-Four

PAMELA

Gisele and I bake.

Yes, we bake.

“It’s what I do when I can’t do anything else,” she exclaims as she takes butter and eggs out of the fridge.

I watch her for a moment, then I help. I’ve never baked anything before, I’ve never cooked either. In fact, I haven’t done much in life. She doesn’t ask me, but she can sense that I have no clue what I’m doing as I kind of stand awkwardly to the side and watch her gather ingredients.

“You’re going to do this and I’m going to supervise. Have you read a recipe before?”

Shaking my head, I can’t even speak. She nods her head once, then flips over a package of chocolate chips and proceeds to tell me all about recipes. It isn’t rocket science, but I have a feeling that it is harder than it seems.

Licking my lips, I begin, and I screw up more than once, but thankfully Gisele is standing right beside me to help. It keeps us busy for a while, it takes things off of our minds, which I’m grateful for. Once the cookies are in the oven and baking, everything comes rushing back.

“Is there someone we can call?” I ask. “Where’s Pinkie and the others?”

She clears her throat. “I think there is some kind of safe room somewhere in the clubhouse, or maybe they’re hiding out in Dragon’s office, I honestly don’t know much about what happens over there,” she says, her voice soft and barely above a whisper.

“Is there anyone we can contact?”

Gisele chews on her bottom lip. “Worm. He’s the only one that will most likely not be in the middle of whatever it is, and he’ll have all of the info. Though, I doubt he’ll tell us anything.”

“Call him,” I plead.

“Coen is going to be pissed off,” she whispers as she reaches for her phone. “But I’m sure I can persuade him to get over it… eventually.”

Smiling, I try