Page 58 of The Riders’ Reign

Will he expect everyone to come inside the hangar, where it's more sheltered, or will he take this outside? Hector may feel more protected inside the hangar, but there are also more places to hide, and it's harder to keep watch for anyone who might be coming to ambush you. He's bound to be suspicious that the MC will bring more men. I know I would be.

Plus, I doubt the club would walk into the hangar, especially with Camile. That would be strategically stupid. There could be men hidden inside the hangar waiting to get shots off.

It works best for Hector to make the exchange happen inside here, but best for the club to have it remain outside, and they can simply refuse to step forward any farther if they don’t want to.

I soon get my answer when one of the men grabs my bicep and yanks me to my feet. Panicked by the sudden movement, I grip the ropes around my wrists, holding them in place. If they fall, any advantage I might have created for myself will be wasted.

“Looks like your friends have arrived,” the man sneers.

“What about the woman?” I ask. “Shouldn't she come, too?”

He gives me a hard yank. “She's none of your goddamn business.”

They drag me outside. Night has fallen. The moon is a semicircle overhead, and the stars are bright and beautiful. It's gorgeous out here, but the dark also means it's going to be harder for anyone at a distance to see what's happening on the airstrip.

They drag me over to where Hector is waiting beside a couple of vehicles. He already has two men with him, plus the two who brought me out, but no one else is in sight. I assume there must be someone waiting for my friends. But where is everyone else? My pulse picks up pace. Yeah, they're planning a fucking ambush, or at least preparing for one. Neither side trusts the other, and I highly suspect the MC has done exactly the same.

The roar of bikes had gone quiet for a moment, but now they sound again, louder than before. A moment later, the headlights appear, and it's with mixed emotions that I recognize the bikes and the men on them. One of the compound’s black SUVs follows. I only wish there were more of them—three bikes, three men. I see Ace and Rook and Phoenix. And with her arms wrapped around Ace's waist is Camile.

No, no, no. She shouldn't fucking be here.

25

CAMILE

I’m petrified.

I cling tight to Ace’s waist, feeling as though I’m hiding behind him, which I basically am. Despite all my brave words to Jack, I’m starting to seriously question myself. What if I’ve made a terrible mistake?

But then we get close to where Hector is waiting with several of his men, and I realize one of those men is Ghost.

I can’t help the little squeak of both relief and fear that peals from my throat. Ghost is very much alive, and I’m so happy to see him. I wish I could jump off the bike and run up to him and throw my arms around his neck, but that’s going to have to wait.

We parted ways with the rest of the MC several miles back. Hector may not know it, but this whole airstrip is surrounded.

I’m sure he has his own men keeping watch on the perimeter of the airstrip, but we outnumber his several times over, if Ghost’s numbers are correct. He’s been forced to keep some of his men with him while he does the exchange, which means he only has at most eight men to patrol the perimeter, which is over a mile long. That’s not nearly enough on an airstrip of this size. All our men are armed with wire cutters as well as guns, so they can gain access to the property without being seen.

The bulletproof vest I’m wearing under my clothes is bulky and uncomfortable, but it was also non-negotiable. There was no way I’d be sitting on the back of Ace’s bike without it.

I trust my men to keep me safe. I’m more frightened for their lives than my own.

One of the trucks from the compound is following the bikes, with Zoo driving, and in it is the man who set up Rook. I have no guilt in throwing this man into the mayhem that will erupt when Hector realizes he’s not Ledger. He deserves everything he gets after betraying Rook. I only hope that whoever is connected to Jarrod—such as his brother behind bars—won’t get any idea who caused Jarrod’s disappearance.

We stop the bikes and the SUV, and everyone climbs off to face the man we’ve come here for.

There’s no mistaking which of the men is Hector. He’s in his early fifties, with that well dressed, overgroomed look about him that doesn’t fit with any of the cartel members I used to see, but very much fits the boss. His expression is strange, and it isn’t until he turns his face, catching the light, that I see he has a scar across his cheek that lifts one side of his mouth in a cruel smirk.

He’s also got four men who are clearly bodyguard types standing around him. Everyone is armed—there was no point in anyone pretending they weren’t—but with equal numbers of people, we’re matched, gun for gun.

Despite knowing what this man has done and what he’s capable of, the only person I really care to see is Ghost. He’s been hurt; his eye swollen and bruised, his lip split. His clothes are rumpled and dirty. He also looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, which I can’t blame him for.

The one person missing is Shelley’s sister, Megan, and my heart clenches for her. We’re not supposed to know about her, and don’t want to give away that we do, in case Hector orders her to be killed. My fear is we’re already too late and Megan is dead. Shelley will never get over it, and perhaps I need to shoulder some of the blame. After all, if it wasn’t for me running to the biker compound, Hector Sanchez would never have so much as known her name.

My stomach twists in despair. How many people are going to die on my behalf?

“Where is my son?” Hector demands.

Zoo climbs out of the SUV and pops the trunk. He hauls ‘Ledger’ out and tosses him to the ground. I’m grateful for the dark. There are floodlights positioned around the runway, but we’re just outside of them here. Perhaps Hector has his own reasons for wanting to be in partial darkness, and I’m sure none of them are good.