Wrath (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #7) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,9

wind is cool and the sun is right over the yellow line down the center of the road, guiding me. Doubt creeps in. I mean, I know who I am. I’m okay with it. Even my past. But I don’t know.

Could I ever make a girl like her happy? I never graduated fucking high school. I’ve worked construction. Odd jobs. But it’s been club life and dues and less than legal money making for as long as I can remember.

That’s one thing, but I’m also a felon. A killer. Sure, I got my murder 2 charge reduced to manslaughter, but I still killed that man and Kristina isn’t the kind of girl that deserves a killer.

By the time I hit the outskirts of Seneca, my heart is cold. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t give her a life like she wants. I’ve got a good chunk of money saved, for sure. I don’t spend on much and I inherited some decent bank when my father died. But I’m no respectable, employed man.

At best, I could get in on some of the new club real estate investments and figure out how to do something else, but it would take years to build things up. By then, she’ll be gone and without her, I don’t give a shit anyway, so I’m stuck between a rock and a harder rock.

My head is pounding as I come down the street toward the Ride or Die and the church. I try not to even look over as I start to slow, ready to pull in at the bar. My chest is tight and I’m pissed fucking off, though at what I’m not sure.

Just at myself.

I stare straight ahead, the church whizzing by on my right. But instinct kicks in, and I turn to take a one second glance as I go by. The lights in the house are on and there’s a flickering light coming from the back windows of the church, which I’ve never seen before.

I’m a few seconds down the road and my nose catches a scent.

I keep going, just about to pull into the bar parking lot, but then it hits me.

Smoke.

I smelled smoke.

Flickering lights in the windows.

I downshift and put on the brakes, spinning in a rubber burning circle in the middle of the empty street and peel out back across the road.

Looks like I got here just in time, because by the time I get back the glow is bright, smoke is seeping out from around the windows and the light in the parking lot illuminates things enough for me to see clearly there’s fire inside.

I scream into the parking lot, practically laying my bike down but I get the engine off and the kickstand down before I’m balling it up the stairs to the house.

The church can burn, I don’t want it to but if she’s safe that’s all I care about.

“Kristina!” I pound on the front door of the house and it swings open. I charge inside, screaming her name, strong arming every door until I’ve hit them all and she’s not inside anywhere.

I make it back to the living room, standing there for a second, my heart pounding in my ears, and then I hear it.

A scream.

Her scream.

“Kristina!” I’m at a dead run like Christ himself is chasing me toward the back of the church. The fire is brighter now, more smoke is pouring out and I hear her screaming for help and banging. “I’m coming!”

I grab the handle on the back door but it’s locked tight and made of thick metal, so there’s no way to kick it in.

I bolt to the front double doors and pull and kick but there’s no way they are opening. As I’m running around the building looking for another access point, I call in the fire to 911 and when they ask for a bunch of bullshit details, I tell them if they don’t get their asses on the road and anything happens to her, I’m coming for them next, then I hang up.

I race around the side of the church and see a metal ladder leading to the roof. There are no other doors except another metal one that is dead bolted as tight as the first, so I take the ladder up, hoping there will be some sort of access from up there.

On top of the flat part of the roof, there’s a flat access door that looks like it’s used for mechanicals, but it’s