BEFORE THE PATCH – book one (A Devil Call MC Book) by Ana W. Fawkes Page A

at all. The people deserved
more and better. The authorities were under our control, which meant we ran the
town.
    “ Talon, ” Layne said. “ Listen. ”
    Layne was on one side of the door,
I on the other.
    I listened intently and heard the
murmurs of someone struggling to breath. Painful whimpers. Then came grunts … followed by whimpers.
    I looked at Layne.
    “ Hurting
her, ” Layne said. “ Fuck. ”
    If Jasmine was killed on our watch,
we were fucked. We wouldn ’ t
get our patches stripped because Layne and I were the heart and soul of Devil
Call MC. But we ’ d never
live this down. And Nash would go fucking crazy.
    Part of me wished Nash would go
fucking crazy. Then I could finally have the club. The patch. The power and
direction Devil Call MC needed.
    “ We
have to move, ” Layne said. “ Talon …”
    “ Let ’ s go, ” I said.
    I stepped to the door and reached
for my gun.
    I saw movement from the corner of
my eye and saw two men at the top of the steps, wearing nothing but black,
carrying coffee, freezing and reaching for guns when they saw me and Layne.
    “ Layne, ” I growled.
    Layne turned and I already had my gun
ready to go. I pulled the trigger and shot one of the guys, sending him flying
back and down the steps. The other guy shot, but his eyes were focused on the
first guy I had shot.
    Layne dropped down to avoid the
bullet, but I stood there and kept shooting. I hit the guy in the leg, then the
gut, dropping him.
    Now I had to focus on the motel
room.
    “ Fuck, ” I growled and grabbed Layne by
the back of his cut and pulled. “ Are
you hit? ”
    “ No, ” Layne said. “ Come on. ”
    Layne lifted his big foot and
kicked the door. It damn near exploded from Layne ’ s
intense strength. The door swung in and we ran into the room, guns drawn, ready
for whatever waited.
    What I didn ’ t expect to find was Jasmine on the bed, ass high
in the air, legs, spread enough Layne and I could both see her glistening
pussy. It was pretty obvious the sounds we had heard were of her getting
fucked. She was throbbing, dripping, her hands tied behind her back, wearing
black heels that matched her hair.
    “ What
the fuck?! ” she cried out,
her face on a pillow.
    “ Christ, ” Layne said.
    “ Jasmine,
put your ass down, ” I said.
    “ Come
on, Talon, ” Jasmine purred. “ Don ’ t act like you haven ’ t
thought about it. I ’ m ready
for you. ”
    She started to shake her ass,
squeezing herself, releasing, biting her bottom lip, working that dark vixen
style she had to perfect.
    Fuck if I was distracted for a
split second.
    Bad on me …
    Because that ’ s when I heard the pump of a shotgun.
    “ Put
the guns down! ” a voice
bellowed.
    It was goddamn Crash, standing
there butt naked, covered in tattoos, his cock dangling half hard, his eyes red,
wide, bloodshot, and obviously pissed off.
    I couldn ’ t blame him for being mad. We had definitely burst
in at the wrong moment.
    He had the barrel of the shotgun to
Layne ’ s neck. One pull of
the trigger and Layne ’ s
head would be hanging by a few random pieces of skin and muscle. And I ’ d be covered in blood.
    “ Well
played, ” I said. I unloaded
the clip from my gun and dropped it to the floor. Layne did the same. “ You know why we ’ re here. ”
    “ No
I fucking don ’ t, ” Crash said.
    “ He
was just about to fuck my ass, ” Jasmine said. “ Please,
Crash, baby, come back here. Do it. Hard. Make me cry. ”
    “ Holy
fuck, ” Layne said.
    “ What ’ s wrong? ” Crash asked. “ Not
man enough for her? ”
    “ Whoa, ” I said. “ Where ’ s
the drugs? ”
    Crash looked at me. “ Drugs? What drugs? ”
    His voice suddenly seemed to echo … what drugs?
    There never was any drugs here.
This was only about Crash fucking Jasmine. Nash had gotten wind of it and
instead of taking care of this himself, or sending some fucking prospects to do
it, he sent me and Layne. Another waste of our time when we could