Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
My sole digs into the crack between two slabs of concrete making up a path, but I manage to keep myself upright and clear my throat. “Yea? And you don’t know anything?” I ask while my imagination suggests that someone might have discovered Clyde’s secret and is now blackmailing him. Is that why he can’t see me? Or are the Butchers involved in something dangerous? I shouldn’t care—and I don’t—but don’t I deserve to know why my fuckbuddy is jilting me?
“No, but I’m sending out Creep. Maybe he can get us some intel. If there’s internal trouble in their club, I need to know. This could be a chance to pull some strings if we play our cards right. Imagine getting rid of Clyde and his uncle without even getting our hands dirty.”
That’s it. I need to know if Clyde is fine.
“Sounds… grand,” I say, though it comes out a bit flatly. Prophet must be in his own head, because he doesn’t seem to notice and pats my back.
“I’ll let you know when we find out. You going to meet your girl tonight, right?”
My stomach retreats, as if it wants to curl around my spine. “Yeah.”
“Good luck. But if she dumps you, you can still bring her to the orgy,” he says and walks off with a wink.
As soon as I’m alone, I pull out my phone, instantly annoyed that the sun is so bright I can’t read shit on the screen. I have to move under a tree, but all I see is that Clyde hasn’t answered me at all.
I text him a question mark, followed by [everyfin ok?] as I make my way back home with a dark cloud spreading inside me like smoke. Something’s burning, and I can’t fucking locate the source. Why would Clyde have bruises on his face? Did he fall? Get in a fight? Did someone punch him when they found out that… he has pictures of a man on his second phone? I open my own smartphone and browse through our conversations, but we are keeping them casual and never discuss anything related to club life. So they wouldn’t know it’s me he’s fucking around with, unless he told them.
My mouth runs dry by the time I sit on the steps leading to my porch and grab the unfinished stag. How long until he responds? Will he even respond, or is this the end, and I’ll never hear from him again? If that’s the case, would he even acknowledge that there was anything between us once we, inevitably, meet face to face in the future?
I shake my head, cutting away bits of wood while my insides stew in their own juices, ever spicier as my anger grows. Because this is fucking inhumane. He should have let me know what’s up. I don’t want details, just a I’m-fine-can’t-wait-to-lick-your- balls-when-I-see-you-tomorrow. But no, he needs to be all cryptic and forbid me from calling on top of that.
I press on the knife with more force than I intended, and a sharp pain travels up my hand as I stare at the short blade embedded in the middle of my fingertip. I pull it out, and blood gushes down my hand.
“Fuck. Fucking fuck,” I mumble, dropping both the stag and the tool on the way inside. It takes me several moments to stop the bleeding, and by the time I go back outside, a scrawny cat I call Bean is licking my blood off the figurine. He’s never sleeping in the same room as me after this.
But despite the discomfort in my left hand, my thoughts return to Clyde, and when I see that he hasn’t even read any of the new messages, one thing becomes clear—I need to see for myself if he’s fine.
I know where he lives.
Chapter 18
Clyde
It’s past midnight when I come back home, but at least the deal’s done. I should feel better about it, since it’s what we strived for, for a long time. To snatch the Vultures’ supplier in Redmond from under them. We can afford to outbid them, and in the long run, it’s a good deal for us.
The only reason I voted against it is petty.
I want more time with Road, and this action, while not an act of war, will antagonize the Vultures once they find out.
But I was outvoted, so off we went, to seal the deal in Redmond.
My house is large and secluded. Our whole family used to live here when I was a kid, but now it’s just me. It feels a bit too big for one person, but sometimes I need to host guys from other chapters, so it’s convenient. Miles from even the outskirts of town, it’s a place of peace where I don’t have to deal with other people’s bullshit.
Sure, I like to play pool with the other patches, grab a few beers at our bar, or work on my motorcycle at the garage, but I have to keep my walls up there.