Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3) by Natasha Thomas Page A

that very soon Blackwater is going to come face-to-face with what are possibly the most handsome bunch of eligible bachelors, bar one who’s off the market albeit grudgingly, in the Northern hemisphere. Crossing my fingers, toes, and any other body part that I’ve got the ability to cross, I pray this visit comes and goes incident free. I also pray the nosy bastards they are stay out of my business with everything in relation to Mr No Name. Hopefully allowing me to escape the ‘Adams boy’s interrogation of death’.
     
    Unfortunately for me my prayers don’t work. Even more unfortunately they begin ‘Operation Reconcile Priss and Tank’ that very afternoon, just not the way I anticipated they would.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
    Hunter
     
    Guns for hands – Twenty One Pilots
     
    When I first joined the Navy our instructors told us the best executed plans all have exit strategies just in case we found ourselves faced with unforeseen circumstances, or if we were required to abort our mission. We would need a safe way out when shit hit the fan, which it inevitably always does. What does this have to do with the situation I’m in now? Not having a backup plan is where I made my first mistake.
     
    The initial plan was supposed to be easy; get in, make contacts, do not make attachments that aren’t absolutely essential to ensuring a successful mission, and get the fuck out with as much information as possible. Well here’s a news flash for you, life isn’t easy and this situation was no fucking exception. If anything it was far worse.
     
    I’ve been forced to call in the only backup I have; my brothers. Not my club brothers, at the end of the day I know they’d help me if I asked but this time it called for the big guns, my blood brothers. For some reason Priss loves those assholes. If anyone can help me explain this shit to her, help me get her back in my life it’ll be them. With the realisation that it’s less than fifteen minutes until the first two of my brothers get here is as much a weight off my shoulders as it is a cause for concern. I might have asked them to come, but when they heard I needed them to help me with something they dropped everything and hopped a flight to Boulder.
     
    I don’t ask for help, it’s not in my nature. More than that I fucking hate having to do it, I hate relying on other people. Having survived on my own for so long I forget I need a helping hand every so often, but this would be the first time I’ve asked or accepted one from my brothers. The only person I’ve accepted help from in the past was Priss. But seeing as this is about her I can hardly ask for her help in wooing her now can I?
     
    My brothers are renting cars at the airport, so I don’t need to go pick them up, so I’m basically sitting around with my thumb up my ass waiting for them to arrive. I told them I’ve got a truck they can use while they’re here, but knowing Brody when he gets here tomorrow he’ll want something top of the line meaning fucking impractical to drive around in while he’s here. But that’s his problem, and good luck trying to find something to live up to his exacting standards because we’re in Colorado not the affluent suburbs of Chicago like he’s used to.
     
    The guy is incapable of going without the luxuries his salary affords him these days. That doesn’t only apply to vehicles it applies to fucking everything, he’s turned into a pussy. I don’t hold it against him, but his thing is not my thing because I don’t give a shit about that kind of stuff. As long as my truck runs, my bike in perfect working order, my bed’s comfortable, and I can find something to wear in the morning that doesn’t smell like cheap perfume or stale beer I couldn’t give a shit what material possessions I own. Brody is in a category all on his own with that one. It pisses me off that he, and Kai seem to have sold out to the all mighty dollar, but that’s their deal and as long as they don’t