Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
"You okay?" Hemlock asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Damn, my head is a dark, scary fucking place.
"I'm good," I mutter. "Can we speak in private?"
"Of course," he says, pressing a kiss to Zara's cheek before directing me toward a room that was used as a secondary living room prior to Cerberus purchasing it.
I dip my head at Zara, handing her back the cup of coffee. "Thank you."
She gives me a soft smile, not seeming to be offended that we plan to have a conversation without her.
I follow Hemlock into the room, waiting to speak until he closes the huge double doors. The last time I was here, this room still held several cozy leather couches and a lot of black bear type of decor, the kitschy stuff common for nearly every cabin around here. Instead, the room has been transformed into a massive conference area with a table and at least a dozen office chairs surrounding it.
A huge television is mounted on the far wall of what would be considered the front of the room, and I see a lot of similarities between this room and the one I recently visited in New Mexico. Despite the different intentions of what started this new branch of Cerberus, it has taken less than three months for it to look eerily similar to the founding chapter.
Hemlock wanted to leave New Mexico because it wasn't a good fit for him, and I understood that reasoning more than anyone. While a member of Cerberus, I was closest with Micah, aka Snake, and Noah, aka Skid. We were like the three musketeers, getting into all sorts of shit until Snake fell in love. Our merry band of brothers was fractured when he left Cerberus to join Lucy in Texas. I don't think he faltered once about that decision. His path was her, and he never doubted that. I stuck around for a few months, but as the missions continued, I realized our problem was more local than what Cerberus focused on.
It's why I split from Cerberus and joined ICE. I wanted to make a difference on American soil where the real war raged rather than putting out smaller fires in South America.
Noah followed me not long after, and it was the best thing in the world. We were kicking ass and taking names, and then, like Micah, Noah fell in love and everything changed.
Since then, there hasn't been a single day that I haven't regretted getting on my bike and riding away from that clubhouse.
"I just wanted to make sure that we're good," I say once the doors are closed. "That there aren't any hard feelings."
"That depends," Hemlock begins, and I expected this.
He isn't the type of man to just let bygones be bygones.
"Are you going to try to go behind my back and start trouble in my house?"
My house.
I smile at his reminder that he's the president of this chapter.
"I'm only here to help," I tell him, and it's the truth.
I know I have separated myself from what's going on here. Before, I felt a little territorial because I wanted this to work so badly, but sticking my nose where it doesn't belong is my own character flaw. It's the cracks in the hard outer shell I've worked to form for decades. I can't care for these people past wanting them to work their cases and get out safely. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I let myself get emotional over the choices they were willing to make?
I stare down at his hand for the briefest of seconds before offering mine as well. The handshake feels like a truce, telling me that even though we may not see completely eye to eye, we're both in this for the right reasons.
Chapter 2
Cora
I don't want to fucking talk to you. Isn't that obvious?
The first time I heard my sister's voicemail memo, I cringed. She should know better than to have such a vulgar recorded message.
Now that I've been hearing it automatically when I call her phone for weeks now, it makes me want to cry.
"Still no answer?"
I dash away the tears forming on my lower lashes before turning around to face the youngest Preston of four.
I pull in a deep breath as I offer him a kind smile. "She's probably still mad at me."
"She's stubborn," he says, probably something he's heard nearly every day of his nineteen-year-old life.
Sadie, the second youngest, has been causing problems for longer than she hasn't, it seems, and, at twenty-three, she has the ability to do it with absolutely no oversight. She never saw our late father's political career as a reason to act right and behave like us other three kids. If anything, she saw it as something to destroy. She spent a lot of time doing just that up until his death five years ago, but it didn't stop there. William, the oldest male child, also has political aspirations and Sadie seems determined to continue to ruin the family name.