Getaway (Restless Motorcycle Club Romance) Read Online Free Page B

ass there.”
     
    “Ah, the lady was up to the task. I was watching the whole thing from right here, and if I thought he was going to kill you then I would have stepped in.”
     
    The biker just shook his head. I had the impression that there had been many conversations like this one between these two.
     
    “Whatever. Let’s get out of here. I can’t believe they only had one man here. Then again, maybe it’s not that big of a surprise if this is the work of the people we think it is, that way they could off Jackie without too much fuss.”
     
    I had been so grateful to see Shane that I had almost forgotten the circumstances.
     
    “You,” I said, poking him in the chest, “have a lot of explaining to do. What the hell is going on here?”
     

     
     
    I didn’t want to leave the house before getting my explanation, but Shane and Marshall didn’t want to stick around where the FBI knew I had last been. Considering that the agency’s man had been seconds away from killing me, I hesitated only momentarily before following them out to the black sedan and climbing into the passenger seat while Shane drove and Marshall sat in the back seat.
     
    “It’s a long story,” Shane said. “And it’s probably going to sound pretty fantastical at times, but I swear that I wouldn’t lie to you.”
     
    I reserved judgment on that front, but since I was the one who had stolen from the motorcycle club and fled, there wasn’t a whole lot of high ground for me to stand on.
     
    “Okay, well you have to start somewhere. Maybe you can tell me about those files that I saw. Why did you have men killed? Were they bad men? And if so then why was the FBI so upset about it?”
     
    He sighed. “There’s a lot more to it than you could possibly guess, but I suppose it’s as good a place to get going as any. The first thing you should know is that I used to be in the marines before I retired from active duty. I served my country, and I did everything they asked me to do. Once I got discharged, I helped out a couple of friends in the Bureau from time to time.
     
    “A couple of old friends of mine had this little motorcycle club, and there were a number of other ex-military men in there. The FBI wanted me to go in and keep an eye on things, make sure they weren’t up to anything illegal.”
     
    Shane paused and laughed. “Turns out they were keeping busy fooling around with some little bullshit. Instead of turning them in, I joined them. It was a natural fit, and after you see and commit some of the atrocities of war, a little petty crime doesn’t seem like as big of a deal as it’s made out to be.”
     
    “You were in the marines?” I looked at him with new eyes. The muscles arms, the strong hands on the steering wheel, and the way he carried himself; suddenly I could see it. It was a wonder I never had before.
     
    “I was,” he nodded. “I was proud as hell about it, too. But that all changed with the war. I saw too much shit, did too many things that I could never forgive myself. When I realized that it was all a sham, all a way for some politicians to do favors to their lobbyists, I lost all faith in what we were doing. It was all for nothing, and definitely not for our country’s freedom.
     
    “We got involved with progressively darker and more intense crimes, but still not the sort of thing that would seriously harm anyone. I always cautioned against going deeper, but I was a lone voice of reason and would get dragged along with whatever schemes my friends hatched.”
     
    “Why are you still with the club?” I asked. He seemed conflicted about what they were doing, and it didn’t make any sense that he would stay involved. “You had an easy out, you could have just gone to the FBI.”
     
    “Because the club is my family now,” Shane said. He looked at me and shrugged. “I would rather be with them taking delivery of a shipment of coke than sitting at home with memories of the war and a bottle of