Riot - Jamie Begley


(Predators MC, #1)


Jamie Begley


“How many?” Creed asked.

“There are a hundred in each crate, twelve crates in total.”

Creed nodded toward one of his men, who moved forward to open a crate.

There was a touch of unease he was feeling, bringing his instincts to alert. Ice sat, watching the deal go down between the two arms dealers while carefully surveying his surroundings. Something didn’t feel right. The building at the train depot was dark, which wasn’t what was grating on his nerves. Several of his men were spread out, hidden, making sure the transaction went down safely for both of the dealers.

He turned his head, seeing Jackal changing positions. His enforcer felt it, too. Ice’s hand went behind his back to where he kept his gun hidden by his leather vest, which bore the name of the motorcycle club he ruled with an iron fist.

The Predators owned Queen City. There wasn’t a deal that went down they didn’t okay and get their share of the profits from. Which was why he was sitting here instead of being back at his clubhouse in bed with a woman and a bottle of tequila.

A flicker of movement had him stiffening as he leaned against a large crate. Ice’s sharp gaze caught it again at the same time as one of Creed’s men looked nervously over his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Ice said under his breath. With a wave of his hand, Ice gave his order. The meet was over. “Creed, we’ve got company.”

The men scattered like rats when the police swarmed the large building. Ice didn’t try to run; he stepped forward when Creed ran by him, bringing his gun down on the shoulder of the cop chasing him, allowing Creed to escape into the darkness. The cop fell to his knees.

“Drop your weapon! Now!”

Ice dropped his gun. He hadn’t managed to live the life he had by being stupid, but he wasn’t going to go down like a pussy, either.

Utilizing a tactic he had used during his football days, he lowered his shoulders and barreled into the three cops heading toward him, taking all of them down to the dirty concrete floor, trying to buy time for more of his men to get away. The more it took to keep him restrained, the less there were to chase after the ones fleeing.

Taser prongs latched onto his shoulder, freezing every muscle in his body as the cops regained control of the situation. Ice was only able to lay helpless as he was roughly cuffed and dragged to his feet between two cops to a waiting squad car.

Jackal, Max, Buzzard, and Fade were cuffed and placed in cars behind the one he was taken to. His eyes met Jackal’s briefly before a SWAT vest cut off his view. Ice’s lips tightened when he saw the fucker slam Jackal’s head against the roof of the car before throwing him inside.

The front driver door opened and a plain-clothed detective slid into the front seat. “I didn’t think I would live to see the day I would have you in the backseat of my car.”

The gloating face staring back at him had Ice wishing his hands were free.

“You didn’t do it on your own, Slater. You can’t piss unless someone’s holding your dick for you.”

Slater Richman had been trying to find charges to press against him since he had joined the force seven years ago.

The gloating expression was replaced with anger. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re there. You and the rest of the Predators are going to have some fun in prison. You’re going to miss all the women back at your