UNDER REVISION - Road Rage, Dark Shadows MC (Book 1)

Lucca - Ash

Ash

It takes more than a hiccup to rattle my VP, so I don't linger at Silver's. With one glance up at her window, I strap my helmet on and fire the engine up on the bike.

I'm careful on the ride because if anything else came out of today, it was learning that the Oakfield's finest had a hard-on for the club–and me, apparently. Even taking all the back roads wherever I can, I still manage to shave ten minutes off the ride, a sense of urgency building the closer I get.

There isn't a whole lot that Dodge wouldn't feel comfortable telling me over a phone but something has got his panties in a twist and I could think of only one situation that would cause that kind of reaction.

Fucking Lucca. The regret was bitter in my mouth. I should never have offered to help him, old school friends and history be damned. It was starting to look like he was drowning in something big and I'd given him my hand to pull him out, but now he's dragging me down with him.

Except it wasn't just me. He was dragging the entire Dark Shadows down, just when I'd got us above fucking water. The MC was relying on me to make good on my promises to get us good and clear of the bad shit that Pops had dragged us into. I'd almost managed to completely cut ties with the cartel he'd tangled us up with and now, with one stupid decision, I'd managed to get us caught up in something else and there was no clear answer on who the enemy even was.

I hit the street the clubhouse is on and see two dark sedans idling at the curb, their tinted windows giving no hint at who might be inside. Dodger's standing behind the steel security gates we had installed, his arms crossed over his chest as he glares at the cars. Fury and Cannon stand at his back and when they see me, Cannon flips a hand behind him, directing a prospect to open the gates and let me inside.

I don't waste time, snatching my helmet off my head as soon as I put the stand down and storming back towards the gates.

"What the fuck is going on?"

As if my words are a starting pistol, doors open and men pile out. I recognize two of them from the night behind the club, Johnny and the other guy who'd been carrying the body out–his cooperation that night must have gotten him a promotion. He's gone from club security to Lucca's personal bodyguard. There are three other men standing watch, their jackets pushed back to reveal their firearms, which makes me tense. Looking over at Dodge, we share a look before one final body slides from the back of one of the cars. Lucca's dressed in a gray suit, looking out of place out the front of the clubhouse, and his vicious stare is locked on me. I don't flinch, showing him nothing as I stare back. He stops in front of me, Johnny on his right and the rest of the guys spread out behind him.

"What the hell are you doing, Lucca?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, looking casual but it doesn't match his tone. "Took you long enough to show up. I was just about ready to set off a flare."

"I had shit to do today." I damned sure don't owe him an explanation for where I'd been and I won't pretend like I owe him anything.

He quirks a brow up, his mouth twisting sardonically. "I don't know what game you're trying to play, Steele, but I'm at the end of my patience."

"Game," I repeat, rubbing my fingers over my jaw. "Is that the game where I offered to help you? Do you a favor? Or the game where you show up in my doorstop, armed to the teeth and playing your own word games?"

He lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, glancing over his men. "Hardly armed to the teeth but I thought it... prudent to come with protection." He focuses back on me. "We have a problem."