Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“You fucker!” Hammer roared as legs propelled him forward so fast he might fall over if he lost momentum. But as Ryker touched the door handle, Dex’s voice came through Hammer’s hunt-mad senses.
“Duck!”
Everything inside Hammer told him to go on. To capture his prey and rip it apart, but on Dex’s call, he folded even though the speed he was going at threw him straight to the floor.
A bullet swished above his head, and Ryker’s screech of pain made Hammer grin even before he looked up to see blood staining the bastard’s white T-shirt. Two torn off fingers rolled across the cement floor as Ryker staggered away from the door. He’d dropped the gun when his hand was hit, but didn’t try to grab it, cradling his injured limb instead. He was a rat with its tail caught in a trap, and no matter how much he writhed, his bloodshot eyes wouldn’t find a way out.
“Good boy!” Hammer yelled to Dex, though his gaze never left Ryker. “Are you ready for what’s coming?” he asked the panting sack of bleeding flesh.
Ryker backed out so fast he tripped over one of the boxes he’d brought down himself. “I was a brother to you!” he spat despite trying to shoot Hammer just seconds before.
“You had a funny way of showing it,” Hammer said and reached for a bundle of rope hanging from the wall while Ryker crawled all the way to Hammer’s work desk and grabbed the saw with a mad flash in his eyes. The women who’d always flocked to Ryker, the handsome outlaw, would have recoiled in disgust.
“You won’t have me in your collection!”
“My collection?” Hammer asked, approaching. He frowned when Ryker put the sharp teeth of the tool against the bottom of his own throat. If the fucker chose to kill himself with that thing rather than risk torture, getting rid of the stains would be near-impossible. Hammer would need to cover the raw cement floor with something like resin or tile. At least the blood from the injured hand had been mostly soaking into his clothes.
“Yes, you psycho! Everyone knows you take the ears of the men you kill. You'll have to collect mine when I'm dead!” Ryker’s teeth rattled when he spoke, but as they continued staring at one another, it didn’t seem that the fucker had the balls to do more than press the teeth of the saw to his throat.
Pathetic.
“You got the wrong memo, I do no such thing. Now drop that toy,” Hammer said, unwinding the rope bundle.
Ryker’s eyes were those of a cornered animal. Sweat shone on his forehead in the faint glow of the lightbulb, but while he pressed the saw to his flesh again, he couldn't make himself ignore the instinct for self-preservation, and the metal teeth didn’t go deep enough.
“That’s enough,” Hammer said and dove forward, wrestling the damn thing away. Ryker cried out and attempted to punch him, but Hammer looped the rope around his neck and dragged him away from the desk.
Hammer knew more than he’d like about how much it hurt to lose a finger, so he was confident the little bitch wasn’t able to think straight.
“All right?” Dex asked, running up to them. He really was smarter than Hammer sometimes gave him credit for, because he already held more rope.
“Good thinking,” Hammer said and pulled at Ryker when the bastard attempted to kick him, thrashing on the cement floor. Dex had his fidgety legs bound in no time, and once the outside lamp was switched on, illuminating the whole yard and making the constant drizzle glint, Hammer dragged Ryker to the nearest tree.
“I didn’t miss,” Dex said excitedly. “I shot his hand because I knew you wanted him alive.”
“I should have fucking put you down!” Ryker yelled despite knowing there were no neighbors to hear him. “But no, I showed you mercy!”
Dex poked his forehead, staring at the dead man walking. “I was bait. You wouldn’t have let me live.”
Hammer grabbed both of Ryker’s hands and pulled them back, ignoring the fact that one of them was bleeding. The fucker tried to fight, but Dex kicked him, giving Hammer more time to tie Ryker’s wrists on the other side of the tree trunk, so he was in a sitting position, embracing the tall birch with his legs spread on either side of it.
Ryker’s breath wheezed as he thrashed, splashing mud and water, but at this point, Hammer and Dex both had wet clothes, so a little more water didn’t matter.
“That was impressive, Dex. You knew exactly what to do,” Hammer whispered. But when he moved closer and warm brown eyes met his, he couldn’t help himself. If Ryker was about to die, Hammer did not care what he saw. So he leaned in and gave his man a soft kiss, expressing his gratitude for Dex’s existence.