Love's Hope (The Unknowns Motorcycle Club Book 2)

Love's Hope (The Unknowns Motorcycle Club Book 2) by Ruby Reid

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Authors: Ruby Reid
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attack on Slim — had waned on his drive out here. Hell, he didn’t blame Alex. He was a young guy that had a whole future ahead of him. If he wanted something other than the lawlessness and constant movement that the Unknowns required, there was no fault in that.
     
    They’d just have to have a talk to sort things out. And if Alex really did want out of the club…w ell, maybe they could come to some sort of an arrangement. He hated to see the kid go, but he wasn’t a monster that was going to make people stay in the club. He’d allowed people an easy out before, and there was no reason this situation with Alex couldn’t turn out nice and clean like those instances.
     
    Then why in the hell am I so furious? Is it just because he failed to finish the job on Marco?
     
    He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just the stress of moving the club. There were a lot of working cogs, and it was next to impossible for him and Karla to keep up with them all.
     
    The darkness of the early morning hours sat heavy on the parking lot as he sat there and waited. He knew that he had put a lot of anger into the phone call he’d had with Alex, but it had been necessary. While he didn’t fault Alex for his decisions (well, maybe a little bit), he still thought it might do the kid some good to squirm. He glanced at his watch and saw that Alex had seven minutes before the deadline Jameson had given him.
     
    Just as he looked up from his watch, he saw headlights approaching from the street adjacent to him. It was a small car that blended in well with the night. It came across the intersection, its lights pointed directly for the parking lot. Has the kid even given up his bike? Jameson wondered.
     
    Something in his guts started to churn. Something was going on here… something unexpected and likely not good. He’d been in enough of these situations to know when his ass was on the line. It was almost like a sixth sense.
     
    And right now, as the little car pulled into the parking lot and came towards him, that sixth sense was telling him to get his Glock out of the small pack on the back of his bike. Slowly, he started reaching for it. He unlatched the pack and slipped his hand inside, searching for the smooth surface of the gun.
     
    The people in the car apparently saw this because it was then that the car put on speed and barreled directly towards him. There was a moment when Jameson was convinced that the car was simply going to plow into his bike. But at the last moment, the car took a hard right turn, slicing into a U-turn.
     
    As it did, Jameson got a good look at the driver’s side window. It was rolled down, revealing a face that had clearly seen a beating recently. It was a familiar face, and when Jameson saw it, his hand finally found the gun in his pack.
     
    Marco, he thought. How the hell did he know I was here?
     
    Jameson gripped his gun and pulled it out, but Marco’s gun was already up. Three shots were fired, filling the parking lot like lighting blasts. The shots came in rapid succession, the first taking Jameson in the arm, the second taking him in the shoulder. The shoulder-shot spun him like a top from his bike and likely saved his life. The third bullet whizzed by the area where his head had been less than a second ago. He heard it blaze by as he fell from his bike, a split second before his freshly wounded arm slammed into the pavement.
     
    He screamed out in pain as he rolled over with his gun in hand. The car had already made its turn, and all Jameson could see was the back of the car. He fired two shots anyway, out of anger more than anything, aiming for the tires. He had no idea if he hit one, though. There was too much pain in his arm, and his shoulder felt like it had been torn from his body.
     
    He rolled over onto his back, trying to summon the energy to get to his feet. He sat up, and the pain made him sick to the stomach. He thought he had been hit in the left shoulder, but it was more like the upper

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