Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Tell me what happened to my dad.” She closes her eyes briefly. When she opens them, they’re coated in tears.
“He was talking to a fed,” I remind her.
“Do you know why he would do that?”
“I don’t.” I shrug.
“You’re lying.” She shakes her head, her lips pulling in tight. “It’s because of your mother, right?” she accuses.
My mouth loosens. “What do you know about that?”
A shadow falls over her features, her head lowering. “They were having an affair. He loved her…”
What the fuck? No. “Wrong,” I grind out.
Her head springs up. “He left me a letter—an insurance policy. They were in love, Alec.”
“You’re wrong. He fucking killed her when she overheard him talking to his fed contact,” I bark out. She stumbles backward, a phantom slap rattling her foundation. She places a hand to her heart. “What did you say?”
Fuck, I didn’t want her ever knowing that detail. I run my hand across the back of my neck, tension building there.
“She walked in on him in the kitchen. Her last words were his name.”
“No, no, no.” She shakes her head, her hair swaying around her shoulders.
“There’s a video, Drew.”
This stops her pacing. Pain etches across her beautiful face. A sob catches in her throat. “He wouldn’t…he said he was in love with her.” She bends over, gasping for air. This scene is all too familiar. My blood roars in my veins, desperate for the outcome to be different this time. “His letter said your dad would kill them both if he found out, so he needed a way out.”
“Drew,” I say her name softly. “You know the club law—you lived it. He was dirty.”
“Was it you? Is that how you got your patch?”
Memories of that day flood in, suffocating.
Eight years ago
“It’s time to make a choice, boy. Are you royalty or mundane?” My father’s deep baritone carries through the club as his heavy footfalls announce his arrival. The brothers part like the red sea, giving him a clear path to where I stand looming over the man who fucked over his club—my father—my mother.
Mitch Wells, Drew’s old man, someone I once respected and thought of as family. My father hands me a gun, the weight heavy in my palm. I’ve held many guns, shot targets and bottles for shits and giggles, but this time is different—this time will change everything.
The brothers close in around our Prez as he reaches for the cowering fool on his knees, begging for his life. All the brothers tilt their chin to their Prez, showing loyalty, respect, and glee in finding this traitor so fast.
I wanted that respect, that allegiance. My father was a fucking king to these men, and treason came with a death sentence.
“I just needed an out,” the rat pleads, reaching out to grasp my father’s jean-clad leg. As quick as lightening, my father brings his knee up, connecting with Mitch’s jaw. Teeth chip and break on a crunch.
He falls to his back, gurgling blood. “You’re a fucking traitor. After everything this club did for you, for your fucking kid…”
“She has nothing to do with this, Prez. Please,” he chokes out, spitting blood and one of his teeth to the ground.
“I’m not your fucking Prez. You forfeited that when you sold out your club, your brothers—me!” Another boot to the face. A couple more teeth fly from his mouth.
“If she wasn’t my son’s girl, I’d pass her around the brothers like a club whore and force you to watch while they defiled every hole on her body.” My blood runs cold at his words, my fists clenching. No one is going near Drew. They’d have to get me eat a bullet first. My teeth grind together with the effort to keep my mouth shut. He’s just letting off steam and trying to scare her father.
“Feeding feds information about our club—what’s the punishment for that, son?”
“Death,” I spit out.
“What?” My father holds a hand to his ear.
“Death!” I roar, gaining a round of cheering from my soon-to-be brothers. Rolling his head over his shoulders, my father pulls a knife from the sheath inside his jacket. “Death, but not a clean one,” he growls, grabbing Mitch by the scruff of his hair. Kai steps up, restraining Mitch’s arms, holding his body still against his own.
“And for killing my boy’s mother—my fucking wife?” My father grits his teeth.
“Death!” I holler, aiming the gun and pulling the trigger over and over.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing happens. My old man turns to me, taking the gun from my trembling hand, a look of shock and pride overcoming him. “You make me proud—and your brothers proud. But this kill isn’t yours, boy.” He was testing me? Gave me an unloaded weapon…
“Joslyn…” Mitch cries out, breaking free from Kai’s hold, a gun in his hand. My eyes track the empty holster on Kai’s hip. Fuck! He turns the gun on himself and—bang!—blows his own brains out before anyone can blink. Brain matter and blood spray Rage’s face, who was standing a couple feet behind him.