Outlaws’ Property (Property of Outlaw Sons MC #1)

2. Ghost

2

GHOST

A twist of the throttle and my bike growls, like the rumbling purr of a monster eager to slip its chains. It’s times like these that I really feel the connection to the metal beast underneath me. I itch to let loose and open it all the way, but this isn't a joyride. There will be other nights to feel the wind tear at my skin as the asphalt flies by under my wheels. Tonight I need to stay in formation. My brothers trust me to be where I’m supposed to be, and that trust is what binds us together.

Riot and Tex ride at my sides, exactly where they should be. All sworn and blooded members of the Outlaw Sons are my brothers, but the three of us have worked, lived, fought and partied together for years. There’s no one I’d rather have at my back. We've been through some dark shit, and if fate is kind, tonight’s business will be done in time to wash off the blood and find some warm, willing bodies to end the night with. Or fuck, it’s been a while since we shared a woman. Maybe we should fix that.

Hellfire leads the pack. It’s only been two years since he took over, but there isn’t a man here who wouldn’t take a bullet for him. He sits his saddle regally, leading us into battle with his long, black hair tied back and whipping behind him like a rallying banner. As an officer, I follow close, with my boys right behind, followed by a handpicked selection of members who have seen enough action to be ready for a target like Victor Kane.

He’s a mean fucking snake, and weapon smuggling pays well enough to make him a tricky man to get to.

Which is why we’ve waited for him to be away from his primary estate, which might as well be a fortress. This would be easier if we could just blow the place to kingdom come and mop up what’s left, but the man who hired us has a hard-on for doing the final deed himself.

The weight of my iron is a comfort at my side, sitting loose and ready. And tucked away where I can get to them in a pinch, all my knives are oiled and ready to go. Never leave home unprepared.

Riot raises a fist to get my attention and points. Up ahead, the wall around Kane's holiday estate grows as we get closer. The gate is firmly shut, with two guards in front of it. They’re already moving by the time I can see them clearly. One has a phone in his hand, probably calling for backup. That’s fine. We're not going for subtlety. We want all eyes on us while Savage and his team sit tight, ready to make a door.

I’m no fucking philosopher, but there’s a golden moment just before the action starts that feels unreal. All possible futures hang in the balance. The plan might go perfectly, but let’s be real. Something always goes to shit. We just don’t know how yet. The trick is to roll with what fate throws at you and hope it doesn’t hit any vital organs.

Kane isn’t a soft target. He’s a fucking arms dealer. We dabble in it ourselves, which is how we know just how important it is to hit him hard and fast before he can call in a fucking drone strike or some shit.

From off to our left, a launcher fires, and the missile streaks ahead with a piercing whine, straight for the main gate. The dense smoke trail makes it hard to see if the guards get out of the way in time, though they start scrambling the moment they hear the dull thump of the launch. The explosion when it hits is loud enough to make the air feel dense in my ears and sends a shockwave through the ground that I can feel through my bike.

We stay mounted, riding straight through the smoke until we get to the wreckage. The doors are blown clean off their hinges, only twisted metal showing where they were attached. There's a body pressed up against the wall by the power of the blast, so at least one of the guys is out of the equation already. The ground is littered with shit that could easily take a bike out of commission, and only hard earned practice lets us seamlessly spread out and avoid both it and each other as we blow through into the courtyard in front of Kane’s mansion. Surprise is our main advantage, so it’s important to get in fast before they fully mobilize. I leave my bike near the front entrance, slipping my piece out of my belt and into my hand.

Hellfire points at the front door. “Knock knock, boys.”

Tex nods, raising his gun and punching a dozen holes in and around the lock. Riot flexes his massive shoulders and grins. He charges at it like a human battering ram, ripping the whole fucking thing off its hinges. He ducks low, rolling in as the forward team advances.

"Down," snaps Hellfire and I drop. His gun barks twice and a guard that just arrived around the corner screams and spins into the wall. A red streak is left behind as he sinks to the floor.

"Move in," commands Hellfire as he monitors the other teams who are spreading out to force Kane’s defense to split their attention.

"On it." I slip past Tex, checking that the entry is clear before we advance. These moments are what I live for. When life and death are on the line, and the only things keeping me on the right side of it are my own skills and the support of my brothers. The adrenaline flowing through my veins is better than any high. I'm like a fucking junkie for it.

Our group leapfrogs our way through the building, two guys covering while one advances, working our way towards where we think Kane is most likely to be found. This is the part of the plan that can never be one hundred percent predicted. He might be in his office, or maybe he had the urge to take a late night swim. Fuck, he could be sitting on the can with his pants around his ankles for all we know. I’d fucking pay to see the look on his face if that’s the case.

Glass shatters as one of Kane’s men fires a machine gun through the windows from a pool area. We drop low as bullets tear holes in the wall behind where we were standing. Tex recovers quickly, zeroing in on the shooter and taking him out with a single crack that nails him in the chest. He stumbles backwards, gun still firing even as his eyes glaze over and his body hits the water.

"Everyone good?" I check the others.

They grunt yes, so we keep moving. The house is fucking crawling with guards now, but they’re on the back foot, making it easy to take them on as they show up. Jackal, one of ours, takes a hit to the arm but it’s more blood than damage. Otherwise, we’re all sporting the right number of holes when a man who looks more like a butler than a guard pops out of a doorway and Riot grabs him by the front of his shirt and smashes him into the wall. The guy’s head bounces with a crack.

"Where's Kane?" Riot growls.

The guy doesn't answer, probably still trying to remember his own name, at least until I shove the still warm barrel of my gun right up under the guy's chin, forcing him to look up. That improves his focus, fast.

"Tell us where your boss is, or we’re spreading your brains all over the fucking ceiling, Jeeves," Tex drawls.

"I… I don't know. I swear I don't know." His face is pure panic, and the acrid stench of urine hits my nostrils. "Please. I’m just his chef. I really don't. I just?—"

Riot gives him another little love tap, and he slides to the floor, boneless. After giving him a quick pat down Riot shrugs. "He’s clear. Should be fine. Concussion maybe. I don’t see him causing trouble."

I nod. Sometimes it’s kill or be killed, but if we can help it, we avoid bringing civilians into it. "No argument. Let's go." I take the lead, out through the pool area, where the shooter that wasn’t as smart about his career choices is floating in a slowly spreading cloud of red. Considering he was trying to do the same to us, it’s not gonna keep me up at night.

The teams come together in the kitchen, where an open bag of broken, discarded cookies lies strewn across the floor. Odd. “Find anything?”

Savage shakes his head. He’s another officer, the two of us serving unofficially as Hellfire’s VPs while the club rebuilds after losing General. “First floor is clear. They must have headed up when we rang the bell.”

Hellfire cracks his neck and sighs. “The upstairs is sealed off like a bunker. Solid steel. Going to have to make another hole.”

I pat Riot on the shoulder. “Sorry, pal. I don’t think even you can charge through that.”

"On it!" Skyhigh, our best demolitions guy, comes running with a camo backpack. He and his backup work to place explosive charges around the barrier. "Step back, fuckers!"

We pull back, and then Skyhigh taps a button on his phone. A moment later, the charges go off. The door slams open with a crash that nobody in the house could possibly miss. We hold back for a second, waiting to see if there’s a welcoming committee. It’s eerily quiet.

"Alright, boys, in we go." Hellfire waves us forwards. “Let’s find this asshole and collect our paycheck.”