Awakening My Vicious Underground Biker Husband

vra

halt in the inner comp

from overhead speakers. Dozens of customized choppers were parked in neat, menacing rows under corrugated metal awnings. Several

econds. Heavy, appraising s

e cab, and signaled Chloe to unload

the southern cowards

A massive ring of brass keys jangled at her hip, and her bleached hair was pulled into a

ong the border, this woman had taken advantage of Erik's collapse to seize control of the clubho

down her crooked nose at me. "You might have a ring on pap

in the back of my throat

her an empress. She didn't understand how outlaw empires actually functioned. In the one-percenter wo

eight docks, cross-border weapon corridors, and the very interstate transport lines my mother had died trying to defend. Erik Marshall was the only warlord w

he second Erik Marshall stood up and wrapped his hands around his throttle bars, Martha's twenty-year administrative grift and

raight through her as if she were made of

. Her jaw tightened, ugly red

s in the basement quarantine. Stinks so bad even the yard dogs won't go nea

el and marched int

nd followed her inside. Chloe stayed glued to my six,

concrete stairs toward the sub-level bunker, the temperature dropped, replaced by a thick,

d outside a reinforced vault door. They looked at me with dull, resigned

eece collar up over her nose. She unhooked a heavy brass

ng her back. "Don't expect anyone to c

not be

and brought the heavy tread do

EEE

he rough concrete with a s

black gaze onto Martha's eyes. A cold, moc

. "You think you're untouchable because the man who built this kingdom can't stand. But the moment I pull Erik Marshall out of that bed,

xpression. Beside the threshold, the two armed Enforcers straightened

harsh, rasping cackle-loud and grating, despera

our weeks. His guts are black, the undertaker is already on standby, and the only place he's riding next is six feet into the dirt! You think you're going to pull him out of tha

the tip of my boot, spun on her heel, and hurried up the stair

aught the heavy key in my left han

rned with a

A wave of stagnant, feve

luminated only by a single red emer

loe," I ordered quietly. "Nobody steps

ustable hospital bed. The sheets were stained

tarvation, his sheer physical frame exerted a suffocating gravity. His chest was wide as an anvil

rim" Ma

to the

high cheekbones and a sharp, aristocratic nose. His skin was pale, his dark brown hair

ves and pressed two fingers fi

ut his pulse was abnormally slow,

ack the so

r with rusty surgical staples. The wound margins were swollen, weeping foul discharge

rm, calibrated pressure to h

ched-a faint, unmistaka

clinical fury ig

ely intact. This was not ir

dotoxin compound bound selectively to voltage-gated sodium channels, paralyzing motor pathways while leaving senso

this ward hadn't misdiagnosed him-they were delibera

ing me here was an execution-a convenient way to bur

dea what they

vel chaos, and I would be left fighting the South with noth

my back. Access to the untraceable freight routes I needed to resurrect my mother's pharmaceutical legacy, and a heavy-ca

rrection. I wa

ed in blood, iron,

rs, he was a dead man wa

was an hour of precision deb

teel side table, unzipped the compartmen

ray, the massive hand resting atop the stained sheet twitche