The Outcast MC - Reaper # 1

Chapter 21

I observed Paige seeking refuge behind a crate while several bikers hastily fled, firing their guns in my direction and hers. Amidst the chaos, I found myself invited to dance, and without hesitation, I surrendered to the rhythm. Responding affirmatively to the invitation, I swiftly reacted, dispatching rounds from my .22 LR high-velocity firearm. Generosity coursed through me.

"Are you unharmed, my love?" I inquired upon reaching Paige. To my surprise, she appeared remarkably composed, even amidst the crossfire, thanks in part to my timely intervention in neutralizing the man beside her.

"You know what? I'm actually handling this situation quite well. Men are falling around me, yet I remain remarkably calm."

"Perhaps you'd consider joining me in Texas?" I suggested, allowing her time to contemplate while I dealt with the remaining adversaries. "I'll be back shortly; there's no need to worry. You'll be safe."

Straightening my posture swiftly, I noticed a curious absence of pain—adrenaline acting as a temporary anesthetic. With firearm in hand, I cautiously advanced, scouring the premises before turning my attention back to Paige.

"Stay put. Don't make a move!" I commanded firmly, ensuring her compliance. Then, I departed. My comrades' vehicle screeched to a halt as the fleeing motorcyclists narrowly evaded it. Seizing the opportunity, I took aim and fired, striking one of them who careened into a nearby tree. I had to catch up with the rest.

"Secure the building. There's an arsenal in there capable of sparking a war—and winning it. Paige is inside. I'll handle the bikers."

"It's not our jurisdiction, Emily. That responsibility lies with the local authorities—the FBI, ATF, even the DEA."

"This is a joint operation, albeit unbeknownst to them."

Undoubtedly, tales of her will endure for years to come. Many will testify to catching sight of the valkyrie astride her black motorcycle, armed with a rifle on her back and a sidearm on her thigh. Though concealed by a full-face helmet, some claim to have heard her laughter as she streaked through town like a shooting star.

I shift gears with lightning speed, matching the swiftness of a virgin's climax, reaching my maximum velocity in an instant. My rapid pumping propels me ahead, surpassing those who may already be at full speed, effortlessly overtaking them as I forge ahead. Eventually, I come to a halt in the middle of the road, retrieving my rifle and peering through the scope. As soon as they spot me, they slow down and attempt evasive maneuvers to evade my aim. But I remain steadfast. Drawing nearer, the fallen Harley-Davidson and their battered riders come into view, their fate sealed by my bullets, a fact easily discernible to a skilled coroner. However, the one I seek is not among the three bikers.

"Carmen, it's me. Have you come across a blond-haired biker with a left ear earring a ring among the casualties or those apprehended?"

"No."

"Get me Paige. The blond-haired biker who was in the company of the overweight one when you entered the building—where did he vanish to?"

"He slipped out through the rear to make a phone call, just as you arrived."

Naturally, he did. They certainly wouldn't have left a door open, given the stash they possessed. He departed, but the question remains: Where did he disappear to?

"Get Carmen on the line again. Yes, there are three bikers spotted on the road, roughly twenty kilometers away in the direction of Fayetteville. We must intercept them before they regroup. I'm heading to the MC's club; one of them has already fled. If he manages to gather his comrades, we're in serious trouble. I'll request reinforcements to expedite the removal of the crates."