Tracker (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #3) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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“Why’d you ask it like that?” he asked, narrowing his gaze at her.

“Huh? What?” The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“About the money.”

“Oh, uh… no reason. I just had no idea the department, uh we, were in bed with Lobo.”

“Hmm…” He stared at her, and she fought the urge to squirm under the penetrating assessment. “No. I don’t think that’s it.” Then he took three steps toward her.

A shiver ran down her spine. Shit. She’d fucked up somehow.

“Sorry,” she said. Hopefully, he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice. “My curiosity drives everyone I know crazy.”

“This is bullshit, isn’t it?” His expression morphed from relaxed to suspicious in the blink of an eye.

“What? No.” Shit. No way did he miss the squeak in her voice.

“What the fuck is this? Some kind of setup? You trying to get me fired?” He charged toward her with a feral snarl.

Her heart leaped into her throat as the instinct to flee hit her hard, but her body couldn’t comply. She stumbled backward, trying to keep her broken leg off the ground while stabilizing with the crutches.

Protecting herself from Andrew became a second priority as she teetered and pitched backward.

Andrew lunged.

Jo screamed.

The door flew open, and instead of crashing to the ground or getting snatched by Andrew, two strong male arms stopped her fall.

Not Tracker. No, her man charged through the door and launched himself at Andrew. They crashed to the ground in a heap of flinging arms and grunts.

“Tracker,” she screamed as Spec righted her. He held on until she had her leg and crutches in position. “Stop them!”

Spec hesitated. Of course, he did. The man loved this shit. He’d let Tracker beat Andrew to death if he had a say.

Tracker’s fists flew with fury. He hit Andrew over and over, muttering insults and threats. Her partner fought back in vain, unable to overcome Tracker’s rage.

“Spec! Do something,” she shouted.

Dammit. Never had she felt more helpless. If it wasn’t for her stupid injuries, she’d yank Tracker off herself.

“Spec!” she shouted again as blood spurted in an arc across the floor.

Was it Andrew’s? Or Tracker’s.

Shit.

“Spoiled sport,” Spec mumbled as he trudged over to where Tracker was kicking the crap out of Andrew. “Come on, brother. Your woman can’t stomach this.”

She scowled at Spec. The idiot.

Regardless, it worked. Tracker allowed Spec to pull him off Andrew. He stood there, staring with fists clenched and chest heaving. Andrew scrambled to his feet, swaying as he tried to ready himself for more violence.

Now, what the hell were they supposed to do? They had Andrew on record plotting to frame Lock and admitting to taking bribes from Lobo. But Andrew knew she’d been lying and sported a face full of bruises from Tracker’s attack.

The four of them seemed frozen in place, no one knowing what to do next.

Finally, Spec spoke, “Okay, here’s how this shit is gonna go down.”

A loud crack followed by a pain-filled grunt had Jo whipping around.

Lock stood in the open doorway, smoking gun cocked at his side.

Jo’s jaw dropped.

“Oh fuck,” Tracker said.

She turned back to find Andrew standing with his hands pressed to his abdomen. Blood spread out across his shirt in an expanding circle.

Lock killed a cop.

“We gotta go,” Spec said. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“We have to help him.”

Andrew dropped to his knees and pitched forward.

“He’s shot,” Tracker said as he reached her.

Lock strode through the cabin and stood over Andrew. “This is for everyone who died because of you.”

Because he’d taken money in exchange for allowing Lobo to poison the town.

Then Lock fired again.

Jo jumped.

“Go.” Lock said. “I’ll burn the fucking place to the ground. Get out of here.”

Jo could barely move. She stood there stunned, balancing on her crutches.

“Come on, babe,” Tracker said. “We gotta roll.”

She let them help her back to the car.

“What the fuck happened?” Jinx asked as soon as they opened the door.

Tracker lifted her onto the seat. “Lock happened.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Drive us the fuck outta here,” Spec ordered.

“You okay?” Tracker asked.

She blinked. She was, actually. “Yeah. I should feel guilty or something, but all I feel is relief. Shit.” She sagged against the seat. “I was scared for a few minutes there.”

“Me fucking too,” Tracker said. He rested his forehead against hers. “Felt like I was running through quicksand to get to you.”

“Andrew’s gone, but what are we going to do about his connection higher up the chain?” she asked.

“We’ll figure it out. God, baby, you are one amazing fucking woman.” He kissed her until Spec hooted and Jinx made vomit sounds.

Jo giggled. “Love you,” she whispered.

“Love you too.”

There were still unanswered questions and plans to be made, but she trusted the club to handle it. She rested her head on Tracker’s shoulder as they let Jinx drive them away from Andrew and her former life.


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