Free Bolt (Storm Runner's MC 1) by Lauren Devane Page A

plain, average face—walked over. “Where did you come from, pretty girl?” He reached out to stroke her hair.
    “Why?” She was broken. All the fight slipped out of her and drained away.
    “Money. Business. He owed us and didn’t want to pay. Does it really matter?” He considered her, roaming his eyes over her curvy breasts, then dipping to study her waist and legs. “But we’re not in a rush. No one comes down here this time of night. Want to have a little fun before you check out?”
     
    Jack was fucking exhausted and wasn’t sure he was going to make it back to his apartment in Lansing without wiping out. Downtown Detroit was dead, except for the few shops on the fringes that managed to stay open and in business—stupid, in his opinion. The town had redeeming qualities, but few of them happened after midnight.
    The light of the Easy Bake caught his eye. He’d been in a few weeks ago for a late night cup of coffee served by the pretty waitress with sparkling green eyes and long blonde hair. She was too classy for a place like this, but he didn’t say anything, just left her a nice tip and told her to have a good night.
    Maybe he’d stop, have some more coffee and admire her ass in the little skirt she wore. The caffeine might help him make it back to Lansing in one piece.
    He approached the corner, then stopped and idled. He recognized one of the men standing near the window, and was thankful that the streetlights were shot out above him so that the man didn’t notice him. Fucking Anthony, a real piece of crap who took advantage of people in an already depressed town. His gang had yet to run afoul of the Storm Runners, Jack’s motorcycle club, but it was only a matter of time.
    The scene quickly became clear when he watched the men laughing, saw blood on the walls. He pulled out his mobile and called the cops, knowing it would take them an hour to get here and that Anthony’s gang would be long gone before justice could be served. He turned to leave when the ape who acted as Anthony’s enforcer came out of the kitchen with his hands on the waitress Jack had admired. Fuck.
    He quickly ran through the facts. His armor would take a hard collision with the road, but it wasn’t stopping a bullet. There were more of them than him, and if he went down, the girl with the sparkling eyes was going to die anyway. He didn’t have much ammo on him. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he was a good enough shot to knock out all the thugs in the restaurant.
    It wasn’t his business. He should turn, leave and never think about it again. But damn it, he couldn’t just leave her in there.
    He dropped off his bike down the alley and around the corner, then approached the back door of the Easy Bake. His hand pressed against the door and it swung open silently, a blessing. The kitchen was empty.
    He peered through the slim slot for trays and saw that the girl was only inches away from the door, held by some gorilla. If he could get in, take the man down and pull her out with him, he might have a shot at getting them both out of there and onto his motorcycle alive. The men were watching Anthony, whose back was to them and the door. He had a chance.
    Kneeling down by the swinging door, he pulled a hunting knife from his boot and then made his move.
    With leonine grace, he sprung through the door and buried the ridged blade in the enforcer’s throat before he could make a sound. The metal blaring from a radio on the counter covered up the initial slice suck sound of the wound, and he grabbed the girl and yanked her through the door before any of the other men could react. When they hit the alley, he heard their pursuers barrel into the kitchen—so he pulled her around the corner, threw her onto the bike and revved it up.
    “If you want to live, hold on.”
     
    Anna wanted to live more than anything in the world, so she clasped her hands around the leather-clad belly of the man who’d pulled her out of the restaurant and