Billionaire Ransom Read Free Page A

felt crushed.
    “I don’t really care.”
    He didn’t. She saw it in his eyes. “He’s your best friend,” she gasped.
    “Was, thanks to you.” He jerked her toward him and her phone slipped out of her hand, luckily landing on the counter without much of a sound. He let go of her throat and jerked her around, pressing the gun into her back. “He exiled me from the club so he could fuck you. Now I’m going to fuck him over.”
    Craig was a killer, and she knew it.
    “Move.”
    She had no choice. If she fought him, he’d shoot her and drag her out of the house. If she tried to run, she’d either end up shot… or worse. She took a small step forward. “I hope Morgan kills you.’
    “Shut up.” His hand gripped her arm, and the barrel of the gun dug into her side. She cried out involuntarily, the fear and the pain combining to cause that exclamation. Craig opened the door and pushed her through.
    A sports car sat at the curb, the engine running. Craig walked her to the driver’s door and barked, “Get in!”
    She blinked. “What?”
    “You’re driving.”
    She caught a breath. Could she speed away and leave him standing? He dangled the keys in front of her. “Don’t even think about it. You won’t get a foot before I hit the remote start and cut the engine off. Then I’ll kill you, and instead of just shooting you in the head I’ll shoot you as many times in as many non-vital places as I can before I kill you.”
    She swallowed, her mouth as dry as a desert. He wasn’t kidding, and it showed on his face. The idea of being tortured that way was entirely unappealing. She had no choice. She got into the car and he slid into the passenger seat. Her hands shook as she set them on the wheel. “Where are we going?”
    “Drive toward the highway and I’ll give you directions from there.” The coldness in his voice hadn’t abated.
    Terror kept her in its grip.
    What did he plan to do to her?
    Tears started but she blinked them back. Shoving the car into drive, she pulled away from the curb.

CHAPTER 2
     
    Morgan was irritated when he pulled his bike up to the bar. The other bikes sitting outside warned him something serious was going on, and when he entered, the solemn faces of his crew confirmed his hunch.
    He didn’t bother with preliminaries. The crowd that day was solely his crew, no weekend warriors or stockbrokers masquerading as bikers were in yet, and wouldn’t be in either. A member locked the door the second Morgan crossed the threshold.
    “What the hell’s going on?” His voice carried across the barroom.
    Clive stepped forward, his face wearing a tight expression of worry. “We got trouble, boss. Big time.”
    “So explain it to me.” He lifted his chin at Jack, who promptly poured him a short glass of whiskey and slid it across the bar. It was early to start drinking, but way too early for serious trouble.
    Clive cleared his throat. “The DEA’s in the yard.”
    Morgan swore loudly. Trouble? That was putting it mildly. The last thing they needed, on top of Craig’s exile, a major fight with the Orphans, and long days spent beating the streets to come up with the money to make Craig’s actions right was the news that the DEA was hitting the streets. Theirs in particular.
    That meant a lot of things. A cut in income. The possibility—a high likelihood—that someone at the street level would rat out someone on a hierarchal level, and that particular little shit snowball would roll right downhill and land them all in jail.
    Damn it! “Shit! Then we have to pull everything. Now! Not fucking tomorrow, now! Get our biggest guys in line with what’s going on. Clean it all up. Erase whatever we have to.”
    Clive shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Everything?”
    “Drugs and money, dickhead,” Morgan snapped. “You know we don’t do murder.” Morgan drank his whiskey, his mind trying to work out all the particulars. “Anyone know who the DEA sent in?” Craig had