Read Tear Me Away (Desert Wraiths MC Romance) for Free Online

aside and crouched in the gravel at the corner overlooking the motel. I slung my rifle off my back and sighted it on my guys as two of them filed into the manager's booth. The grip was worn and the barrel rusty. Our gear was seriously out of shape, but at a couple hundred feet, it should work fine. If it needed to.
    The booth had tinted glass. I could remove my shades and resolve the shadows I saw through my scope, but didn't want the hassle. I knew the deal. He'd check the stuff, complain a bit. Canyon would call him a prick and name a price. The guy would flinch, and demand something: security, reliability, a discount. He'd get one or two of the above. The show of force was meant to remind him we were still a legit operation. The Scorpions had probably fed him lies about our club’s impending demise.
    Sure enough, about the five minute mark, Canyon and Crispy bust back out with a plastic bag, looking not-pissed. The four men nodded, and sauntered back to their hogs.
    Another day, another deal.
    Behind me, I heard the faintest scritch of one pebble crunching along another. A bird, I told myself, as I turned, but spiked anyway. Call it instinct, but it sounded like one fat fucking bird.
    I swung the rifle around to see a meaty hand reaching up from the fire escape, joining the other already there. The first held a little black gun with a silencer.
    There were little electrical boxes all along the roof and I leaped onto one, landing into a soft crouch. The world moved with all the slowness of a playground, as I leaped from one to the other, right up to the fire escape. When an ugly face heaved up to join the hands, I was already sighting it through my scope.
    The guy pulled high enough for me to see the Sand Scorpions logo on his jacket, and then he noticed the long shadow and looked up.
    "Oh shit." His face was ugly, but not quite as ugly as when my bullet cracked through his skull. The gunshot ran crisp in the air and then vanished. The biker's body went rattling down the fire rail.
    I sprinted back to my nest, spiking again. The world resolved into high def under the yellow glaze my glasses gave me. If I took em off, my retinas would burn white for days. But even at my speed, gun fire rattled out in the parking lot below before I could peek out.
    A dozen Sand Scorpions converged on my boys, from every cross-street, nook and alley. No engines rumbled, the firing vectors didn't criss cross. This wasn't even an ambush. It was a goddamn execution.
    Canyon went down even before I sighted my rifle. He staggered back into the bikes and they all crashed onto the lot. I found a sharpshooter with a rifle on the motel roof and ran a round through his heart. One more was on the next building over, and I spun and took him out. Those were the executioners.
    But there were too many file and rank, and they all spat out bullets with automatics.
    Where the fuck were they getting this shit from? I wondered as I turned one's head into an overripe tomato. Uncut was down now too, still uncut in a way, but puckered with a dozen additional holes. My guys should all be dead by now, but these Scorpions were just spraying. No training. It didn’t give me hope. Just better than nothing odds.
    Something cracked near my head. In my hyper state I saw another bullet fly past my skull. More crashed on the low stone rise shielding me, and I had to roll to find a clean spot. When I popped up, Twist was down too. I felt nothing. It felt like a deeper nothing than for the others, and that sickened me. He was one of mine. An asshat, but blood. I took out another two guys in his memory, and another seemed to have been down from one of my guys, but it had shifted now. 8 on 1 was never a fair fight. Three of the guys advanced on Crispy and he slumped to the ground as if he had just heard shit news.
    The guns turned on me. Concrete dust and chunks and steel were flying my way now. It felt like I was in a sandstorm. My cheek felt wet and I found blood. Men were