Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Where is he?” one of the men snapped. He was wearing glasses, and while his beard was long, it was neatly trimmed and well-kept. His reddish-brown hair was cropped short, revealing tattoos on his neck. There was no mistaking the fury in his dark eyes as he glared at me.
Ace suddenly stepped out from behind me, a gun in his hand, and he was pointing it right at the fucker who’d spoken. The man’s eyes widened in disbelief, and now that Ace was out in the open, I noticed the other two lowered their weapons so they weren’t aimed at my boy.
Smart thinking because I was a hairsbreadth away from snatching that gun from my boy and putting bullets in their skulls for putting him in harm’s way.
“Ace…” I growled, my hands latching around his upper arms to force him back behind me. I didn’t even know how he knew where my pistol was, but while I was glad we had some kind of weapon, I didn’t like it being in his hands. Especially not when he was facing five hostile men.
“Get your hands off of him,” another man growled. He was thickly muscled like me, a backward ball cap resting on his head. There was no mistaking the threat in his stance, nor the shrewd look in his eyes as he looked pointedly at where my hands rested on Ace.
“Fuck you,” I growled, wrapping my arms around Ace’s chest and yanking him back against me—as if I could shield him from whatever might come our way. They didn’t seem interested in harming me with Ace in the way though. “Put your goddamn guns away.”
“You kidnapped—”
“Put your fucking guns down before I put a hole in your skulls,” Ace snarled, glaring at the men in front of us as he clicked the safety off. A heavily tattooed man sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at Ace in surprise. “I mean it. Put them down.”
“Kid, you don’t even like to be touched,” a lankier guy with a beard, his hair pulled back in a small bun, snapped. He was one of the ones holding an assault rifle. “Is this Stockholm Syndrome?”
“Too early for Stockholm Syndrome,” I said dryly, making him glare at me. I met his gaze evenly, not even flinching. They were nothing compared to the fuckers I’d dealt with overseas.
“Fuck you, Cameron,” Ace bit. “Any of you ever stop for two fucking seconds to wonder if maybe Gunner had been helping me?”
“He’s touching you,” the one with glasses said, obviously confused. And still hostile, considering the glare he was throwing my way. I ignored him.
Ace huffed. “Yes, he’s fucking touching me,” he snapped. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” I snorted and gently squeezed him. He relaxed a bit, but he still didn’t drop the gun. “Put the guns on the floor.” No one moved. He put his finger on the trigger, swinging it at the silent one. The man had a thick beard a little unkempt, and he was wearing a beanie. Tattoos littered his skin. He just evenly met Ace’s gaze. “Jax,” Ace growled, “drop it. Now. Please. Gunner isn’t harming me. He didn’t kidnap me. He fucking rescued me.”
That relieved some of the tension. Jax set his gun down and kicked it across the floor, nodding once at Ace. Cameron muttered something I didn’t catch before he did the same, kicking his gun away, too. Jax crossed his arms over his chest, arching a brow at Ace. “Start explaining, kid. You’ve been missing for days.”
“And what did you do to him?” Cameron demanded, looking at me. “He doesn’t let people touch him. Ever. And he’s never polite. He’s a little shit.”
I curled my upper lip in disgust. This guy was a piece of fucking work. Ace glared at him as he lowered my gun, clicking the safety back on. “If you keep being a dick, I’m going to call Abbie and tell her you don’t deserve sex for a week.”
Cameron glared at him but kept his mouth shut. My lips twitched in amusement. Dropping a kiss to the top of Ace’s head, I slowly released him, giving him the opportunity to keep me with him if he wanted. Instead, he turned and looked at me as my arms dropped back to my sides. I cupped his cheek. “I’m going to make some coffee,” I told him. “You want a cup?”
He nodded. “Yes, please, Papa.”
The one with the glasses choked. “Papa?” he asked, glaring at me. “You better not be taking advantage of him, you fucking—”
“Shut up, Arlo,” Ace snapped, turning to glare at him. I gently squeezed his shoulder before I headed to the kitchen, leaving him to deal with his family. This was his fight. And while I wanted to step in for my boy, I trusted him to handle this on his own.