Lucifer’s Fury (A Motorcycle Club Romance) Read Online Free Page B

loaded onto the truck then take out these fucking bastards. Stay in the shadows unless you have no other options.”
    We watched from the shadows as more than four dozen women and young girls were loaded, single file, into the large trailer. Some of the girls appeared to be as young as ten years old. A small girl at the back of the line of women stumbled, falling to her knees. Her sharp cry of pain echoed off of the metal containers, breaking my heart.
    The man behind her grabbed her by the hair, jerking her to her feet. The disgusting man grabbed at her small barely there chest, tearing away the thin summer dress she was wearing, fondling her small body. The poor girl, naked but for her panties and shivering in fear, filled me with rage. My control shattered as images of such a young girl having her innocence stolen by heartless cowards flashed before my eyes.
    Thugs.
    Rapist bastards.
    Before I knew what was happening, I stood up pulled my gun from its holster, and moved along the shadows, working my way closer to the danger zone. Voices in my earpiece sounded off like battle cries.
    “Fuck.”
    “Move in. Now.”
    I pushed those voices aside, trusting that my girls had my back. I couldn’t see them for the blinding rage – a hazy curtain of red – coating my vision, but I knew they were there just the same.
    Finally, I was as close as the shadow would allow. Thankfully the men were too busy to notice me, their backs turned to me as I edged along the shipping containers, stepping out of the shadows and into the light, circling the semi-truck. Raising my gun, I took aim and fired.
    Bang!
    Bang!
    Bang!
    Bodies fell.
    Women screamed.
    I didn’t care who the men were or what their club rank was. It didn’t matter in that moment. The other men dropped around me as the echoes of more shots filled the night. The women in the truck trailer screamed and screamed and screamed. Their pain seeped into me as I knelt over the leader of the Twisted Bastards. Their president.
    “You should have stopped while you were ahead,” I hissed. “You should have walked away. You are just too damn stupid.”
    Gurgling sounds erupted from his lips as a crimson stain rippled along his dirty white shirt, his eyes wide as he looked into mine. I smiled back at him but it wasn’t a soft smile. No. It was a purely wicked smile that bordered a smirk, all teeth and hatred rolled into one menacing expression. Standing over him, I looked down on him like the filth he was as his life drained from his useless excuse for a body. No more would he hurt a woman.
    “I’ll wipe each and every one of you Twisted Bastards from this world if it’s the last thing I do.”
    Squatting over his hulking body, pressing the gun to his head, I fired the kill shot. It wasn’t nearly enough.
    So I fired again. And again.
    A small hand gripped my shoulder, bringing me out of the darkness I was succumbing to. I hated the darkness, hated the way the silence pulled me deeper into the madness hidden there. That’s where men like the Twisted Bastards lived. I didn’t belong there. In times like this when my control slipped I straddled that line. Tears crawled down my cheeks mixing with the blood splattered on my face.
    “Pandora. We have to move. One of the Twisted got away. Do you hear me, Pandora? We have to hurry up, babe.”
    Glancing over my shoulder, I nodded. “Are the women safe?” It was then it dawned on me that I never lowered my mask. Fuck me.
    “Yeah. They’re all okay.”
    Within minutes we had the women out of the confines of the truck trailer, cut free from the zip ties that had bound their wrists together tearing into their flesh. Juju, one of my girls, grabbed a cellphone – from the looks of it, a burner phone from one of the Twisted – and handed it to a tall blonde, her face swollen horribly and covered in bruises. I couldn’t hear what she said but the woman smiled and gave Juju a hug. They’re always thankful for the rescue. In their shoes