Getaway (Restless Motorcycle Club Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Julia Marie
you took my advice about the tunnel when you picked out the clubhouse. It made this downright simple.”
“Well it just seemed like a good idea. Maybe it was a little tough to pull off without alerting anyone who might have been snooping around – like the FBI. But worth it.”
The Restless Motorcycle Club’s warehouse and base of operations was located in the middle of a bustling industrial district, and it wasn’t an accident. The warehouse had been leased legally under the club name, but at the same time a small building had gone for sale a block over that I purchased secretly, under a false name, through several layers of protections meant to conceal the identity of the true owner. Marshall had uncovered a few contractors who were trustworthy and stealthy – not to mention skilled – enough to tunnel underneath the two properties and build a hidden passageway.
The logistics had been headache-inducing – worming through the sewer system, the buried utilities, and hidden outcroppings of bedrock, all without striking anything and alerting anybody. It had been more expensive than I’d wanted to admit to the others in the club, and something that looked like it would never pay off.
Until tonight. Tonight had made it all worthwhile.
“Okay, she’s up north, a ways out of downtown,” Marshall said. “Take the highway.”
We drove in a terse silence aside from the odd direction given from the man in the passenger seat. Marshall was an incredibly useful acquaintance to have, but he was not comfortable to be around. He had seen and done far too many things for that to ever be the case. I knew enough not to bother asking him how he got the information he did.
At his direction, I pulled the car to the side of a street in a shabby neighborhood, next to a house displaying a couple of graffiti tags. The houses would have been nice when they were first built back when this was prime commuter real estate. As the city limits expanded and the buildings grew older, the wealthier middle class kept moving further outside of the city bounds, and this became a forgotten community, kind of like the occupants.
Another one of Marshall’s devices was out in his steady hands, scanning slowly around a house a few doors down.
“There are only two people in there,” he said. “One man and one woman. I can’t believe they’ve made things this easy on us. They really thought that we wouldn’t be able to find her.”
“We can take one man,” I replied. “I’m going in there. Where should I enter?”
Marshall squinted out the car and shrugged. “Looks like they’re just through the front door, so we should loop around back. You want the lead?”
I nodded. “Like Kuwait?”
He smiled; the vicious grin of a fellow predator.
The lawn was lumpy and there were patches of dirt under my feet as we crouched and ran towards the side of our target building as quietly as possible, a distinct contrast to the green carpet that perfectly filled my own yard.
With a concentrated effort and the benefit of countless mornings spent running through a posh neighborhood, I kept my breathing slow and quiet, drawing each breath carefully through my nose and expelling it the same way to make sure it didn’t tip off our opponent.
Marshall used hand signals to point towards the back of the house. I nodded.
There was a door just around the corner, a swinging one with just a small window. It looked like it might make some noise when opened.
I looked back at Marshall and grimaced; he pointed over my shoulder at a window that was cracked open to the warm night.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but isn’t there anything I can do so that you won’t?” I asked, my voice growing desperate even to my own ears. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. Please!”
There was no response. This guy did not want to give me anything. There was no hope.
I
“Well it just seemed like a good idea. Maybe it was a little tough to pull off without alerting anyone who might have been snooping around – like the FBI. But worth it.”
The Restless Motorcycle Club’s warehouse and base of operations was located in the middle of a bustling industrial district, and it wasn’t an accident. The warehouse had been leased legally under the club name, but at the same time a small building had gone for sale a block over that I purchased secretly, under a false name, through several layers of protections meant to conceal the identity of the true owner. Marshall had uncovered a few contractors who were trustworthy and stealthy – not to mention skilled – enough to tunnel underneath the two properties and build a hidden passageway.
The logistics had been headache-inducing – worming through the sewer system, the buried utilities, and hidden outcroppings of bedrock, all without striking anything and alerting anybody. It had been more expensive than I’d wanted to admit to the others in the club, and something that looked like it would never pay off.
Until tonight. Tonight had made it all worthwhile.
“Okay, she’s up north, a ways out of downtown,” Marshall said. “Take the highway.”
We drove in a terse silence aside from the odd direction given from the man in the passenger seat. Marshall was an incredibly useful acquaintance to have, but he was not comfortable to be around. He had seen and done far too many things for that to ever be the case. I knew enough not to bother asking him how he got the information he did.
At his direction, I pulled the car to the side of a street in a shabby neighborhood, next to a house displaying a couple of graffiti tags. The houses would have been nice when they were first built back when this was prime commuter real estate. As the city limits expanded and the buildings grew older, the wealthier middle class kept moving further outside of the city bounds, and this became a forgotten community, kind of like the occupants.
Another one of Marshall’s devices was out in his steady hands, scanning slowly around a house a few doors down.
“There are only two people in there,” he said. “One man and one woman. I can’t believe they’ve made things this easy on us. They really thought that we wouldn’t be able to find her.”
“We can take one man,” I replied. “I’m going in there. Where should I enter?”
Marshall squinted out the car and shrugged. “Looks like they’re just through the front door, so we should loop around back. You want the lead?”
I nodded. “Like Kuwait?”
He smiled; the vicious grin of a fellow predator.
The lawn was lumpy and there were patches of dirt under my feet as we crouched and ran towards the side of our target building as quietly as possible, a distinct contrast to the green carpet that perfectly filled my own yard.
With a concentrated effort and the benefit of countless mornings spent running through a posh neighborhood, I kept my breathing slow and quiet, drawing each breath carefully through my nose and expelling it the same way to make sure it didn’t tip off our opponent.
Marshall used hand signals to point towards the back of the house. I nodded.
There was a door just around the corner, a swinging one with just a small window. It looked like it might make some noise when opened.
I looked back at Marshall and grimaced; he pointed over my shoulder at a window that was cracked open to the warm night.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but isn’t there anything I can do so that you won’t?” I asked, my voice growing desperate even to my own ears. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. Please!”
There was no response. This guy did not want to give me anything. There was no hope.
I
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