Local Bike Gang Gunned Down in Drug Deal Gone Bad I skimmed the article, my gaze drawn repeatedly to the pictures that were scattered throughout. Jesus, that’s Frank, I thought as I stared at a large-bellied man, his long white hair partially covering his face, sprawled on the floor. A dark pool of blood was under his body and nausea swept through me. At least a dozen men were lying dead on the floor of the very bar I had stumbled into a few months ago. That could be Riley lying there, my mind whispered, and I shuddered all over. How the hell he had escaped, I had no idea. I forced my gaze away from the pictures and started to read the article in detail. Before I made it past the first paragraph, Riley’s drawn-out cry had my blood freezing in my veins. I jumped up and ran to the living room as his cries grew louder. He had stretched out on the chaise and had obviously fallen asleep. His face was pale and his hands plucked restlessly at the blanket that covered him as he moaned loudly.
