Evening Primrose (Devil's Hornets MC Book 2) by Kathryn Thomas Page B
Authors: Kathryn Thomas
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they had been in talks over the last day or so. The man had worn a smug smile for most of their talks. Jack had thought the man was just a cocky arrogant bastard, but now he knew it was more than that.
“I got it. Any reason your friend thought I needed to see how he lays pipe? That’s not my thing.” Jack knew the plan, but it still hurt. Faking indifference shouldn’t be that hard; he’d done it before but not about someone he really cared about as much as he did her. He didn’t want to talk about Natalie like this, and he didn’t want to do what he knew needed to be done, but for her life he would.
“You trying to tell me that’s not the piece of ass that’s been warming your bed for the last few months?” Johnson tried again, but he’d get nothing from him. There were moles on both sides of this motorcycle club, so the man probably knew they were on their way, but only the tightest of the tight knit group of Devil’s knew about the heavy hitting van.
“I wasn’t aware you were so interested in my bed partners, Johnson, but yes I’ve been sleeping with her. It was fun. She doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of this mess, and you’ve calculated poorly if you think that snatching up a flower shop girl was going to get you more area in our streets.” Jack listened to the silence on the other side of the phone and could practically hear the creaky cogs of this jackass’ brain trying to add up the pieces.
“I’ve seen you with your women. You’ve taken that woman way out of town for all your dates where you usually come out looking like you fucked her every which way from Sunday. That’s not the way you normally do it.”
“You’re right, but when you’re looking to fuck a good girl, you have to put in the work. Common sense would have told you idiots that if I did want her again, which I don’t… the novelty has worn off; you wouldn’t have sullied her with the stench of a Reaper. Nobody would want her after that.” Jack was happy he wasn’t a religious man, because the lies he was vomiting out were vile. If there was a hell, and he wasn’t already going for other shit he’d done in the past, he was definitely going for this.
“I think you’re bluffing,” Johnson said with an uneasy chuckle.
“Then there is nothing else to say.” Jack pushed the button that ended the call and was ready for battle. There was so much more to be said on the matter, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get it all out.
Danny Boy killed the head lights on the van and slowed down to a snail’s pace. They could hear the crew on the other side of the building where they’d been told practically all of the Devil’s Hornets were waiting for the attack. They moved in close, turned off the van, and got out of the vehicle to load up on weapons.
Pyro was to his left, and T-Bone was on his right. The rest of the killer squad was behind them. The legend of their killer squad set fear in the mind of the locals, and they all were the best in their craft. Pyro brought the fire. Henderson could get into any lock within a minute. Randy and T-Bone were expert shooters, and both could hit a target from 75 yards with precision. Jameson was a fearless scout. Danny Boy was the best damn driver there ever was making his way into and out of tight jams whether in a motorcycle or a big ass bus. Ruthless was just what his name said; there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to get what they needed done… done. Jack knew his place. He was the man with a plan; a slick tongue and a calm mind were the only tools he needed to figure out what they should do next. There weren’t many times that all of them were needed but they were here to make a statement. ‘You don’t fuck with The Devil’s Hornets because we can show you hell.’ That’s what they told people, and once again they aimed to prove it.
The door on the back wall of the building was propped open, and Jameson
“I got it. Any reason your friend thought I needed to see how he lays pipe? That’s not my thing.” Jack knew the plan, but it still hurt. Faking indifference shouldn’t be that hard; he’d done it before but not about someone he really cared about as much as he did her. He didn’t want to talk about Natalie like this, and he didn’t want to do what he knew needed to be done, but for her life he would.
“You trying to tell me that’s not the piece of ass that’s been warming your bed for the last few months?” Johnson tried again, but he’d get nothing from him. There were moles on both sides of this motorcycle club, so the man probably knew they were on their way, but only the tightest of the tight knit group of Devil’s knew about the heavy hitting van.
“I wasn’t aware you were so interested in my bed partners, Johnson, but yes I’ve been sleeping with her. It was fun. She doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of this mess, and you’ve calculated poorly if you think that snatching up a flower shop girl was going to get you more area in our streets.” Jack listened to the silence on the other side of the phone and could practically hear the creaky cogs of this jackass’ brain trying to add up the pieces.
“I’ve seen you with your women. You’ve taken that woman way out of town for all your dates where you usually come out looking like you fucked her every which way from Sunday. That’s not the way you normally do it.”
“You’re right, but when you’re looking to fuck a good girl, you have to put in the work. Common sense would have told you idiots that if I did want her again, which I don’t… the novelty has worn off; you wouldn’t have sullied her with the stench of a Reaper. Nobody would want her after that.” Jack was happy he wasn’t a religious man, because the lies he was vomiting out were vile. If there was a hell, and he wasn’t already going for other shit he’d done in the past, he was definitely going for this.
“I think you’re bluffing,” Johnson said with an uneasy chuckle.
“Then there is nothing else to say.” Jack pushed the button that ended the call and was ready for battle. There was so much more to be said on the matter, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get it all out.
Danny Boy killed the head lights on the van and slowed down to a snail’s pace. They could hear the crew on the other side of the building where they’d been told practically all of the Devil’s Hornets were waiting for the attack. They moved in close, turned off the van, and got out of the vehicle to load up on weapons.
Pyro was to his left, and T-Bone was on his right. The rest of the killer squad was behind them. The legend of their killer squad set fear in the mind of the locals, and they all were the best in their craft. Pyro brought the fire. Henderson could get into any lock within a minute. Randy and T-Bone were expert shooters, and both could hit a target from 75 yards with precision. Jameson was a fearless scout. Danny Boy was the best damn driver there ever was making his way into and out of tight jams whether in a motorcycle or a big ass bus. Ruthless was just what his name said; there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to get what they needed done… done. Jack knew his place. He was the man with a plan; a slick tongue and a calm mind were the only tools he needed to figure out what they should do next. There weren’t many times that all of them were needed but they were here to make a statement. ‘You don’t fuck with The Devil’s Hornets because we can show you hell.’ That’s what they told people, and once again they aimed to prove it.
The door on the back wall of the building was propped open, and Jameson
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