Free Anarchist: (An MC Serial Novel) Book 1 by Jordan Silver Page B

and suitcases full of shit. One of the suitcases was too stuffed to even close properly, so there were clothes hanging out.
    She took one look at her husband lying in the dirt and walked over to him. Pulling her foot back, she kicked him in the nuts before spitting on him.
    “Alright you blood thirsty wench, you got a truck or something around here to drive? You can’t fit that shit on the back of a bike.” Law pulled her away before she could hurt herself.
    “I have my daddy’s old truck he gave me if I ever wanted to leave this jerk. I don’t know if it’ll work though, it hasn’t been moved in a while.’
    He inclined his head to one of the boys to go check it out. Not long after he heard the sound of a rusty old engine turning over. It ought to get them to where they were going.
    “Okay men, half in front and half behind.” He turned back to the man who surprisingly hadn’t said more than three words since they’d pulled up. “If I see you on the road anytime in the next half hour, I’ll light your ass up with lead.”
    He was the last one to pull out though his men hated when he did that shit. But whenever he knew the threat was coming from behind, he made it a point to stay between them and it. He didn’t care too much for grand standing so he didn’t always need to ride the front.
    His baby brother pulled back to ride with him and he left him alone because talking to the kid was like pulling teeth.
    “Law you taking her?” he heard the words through his headphones on their private channel.
    “What do you mean taking her?”
    “I mean we can’t send her back there, the girl I mean, if you’re not gonna take her I will.”
    “Oh yeah, and what’s Melissa gonna say about that?”
    Kyle rubbed his side where his wife had either, kicked, bit or punched him. “I wasn’t meaning it like that, but she needs seeing after.”
    Law thought of the girl that had dragged her beaten ass onto his property just hours ago. She couldn’t be more than fifteen, sixteen; his brother was nuts.
    He left the conversation there as his mind took in the fact that the girl had travelled the distance between their homes in her condition on foot. It had to have been an excruciating ordeal.
    Then he thought of his brother’s question, he knew where it was coming from. Kyle had become a hard, introverted brute in the last few years, but he hadn’t always been that way though, no.
    Once he was a carefree, happy go lucky boy, who played varsity football and beat the girls and women off with a stick. Until his girl Melissa got her hooks in him that is, then he’d settled down.
    He’d still been his wild self though, until the day both their worlds had been turned to shit.
    He’d got the news while deployed in Iraq. Someone had slaughtered his parents and little sister.
    The only reason Kyle had been spared was because he hadn’t been home at the time, and Law was pretty sure that had been a mistake on the attackers’ part.
    He still wasn’t sure what the fuck they’d planned to do about him, unless they were expecting him to buy it in combat.
    He’d been on the next flight home, with his emotions on lockdown. He went through the viewing, the wake and the funeral with his heart on ice.
    The law had claimed they had no idea who’d done it, but Law knew who was responsible. He’d had no doubts since the minute heard the news.
    It had to be that son of a bitch Royce Davis. He’d been after Law’s daddy to sell him his land for the longest time, but the old man hadn’t been interested in selling his family legacy.
    The land had been in the Daniels family since the early settlers headed out West. It was some of the best land in the whole damn state and everybody pretty much knew that.
    The natural gas alone was worth millions, not to mention the prime location would be ideal for some asshole that might want to turn the old town into a metropolis.
    Shamus Daniels had had no interest in any of those things. He was an old