Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I feel my body go lax, and I start to feel a little colder than before. I’m crashing. The adrenaline is leaving my body, and I clench my fist, hoping to stop the shaking that I know is going to come.
Lucias’s whole body seems to go rock solid, his hard stare landing on me. I can practically feel the anger pulsing off him in waves.
“You belong to Pinch.” The disgust is clear in his voice, and it also doesn’t sound like a question. More of an accusation. He lets out an angry huff, and his nostrils flare. “Not any more, you don’t.”
What the hell does that mean? Like, he’s going to kill me?
I feel my legs start to shake, and before I know it, Savage has me by the waist, stopping me from hitting the floor. I’m shocked he even cared enough to catch me.
I’m quickly pulled from Savage’s arms and into Lucias’s.
“I’ll be back. No one fucking go anywhere.”
“What the fuck was that?” I hear Cas say, and then a few others mumble as Lucias carries me from the room.
I have no energy to fight him. What’s the point? I just rest my head against his chest as he takes a set of stairs. It’s then I really notice we’re in some giant house.
We go up two flights of stairs until we reach the third floor. There are two doors, one at either end of the hall. One door opens, and a small blonde woman pops her head out, giving us a strange look.
“Savage is downstairs,” he tells the woman as he turns. She just nods before a half-smile pulls at her face.
At the end of the hall, he opens a door before dropping me on a bed. He stares down at me for a minute, and I feel my heartbeat pick up. I scramble for the other side of the bed, and Lucias just lifts his hand and points at me.
“Don’t even think about trying to leave.” With that, he turns, exiting through the door he just entered, and I hear a lock click into place.
4
Lucias
I stand there outside the door having just locked it. I rest my forehead against it and press both my hands to the wood, wanting desperately to go back in there.
My heart sank when they told me she was Pinch’s. How could she belong to a little shit like that? I never thought I would be the kind of man that would take a woman from another man, but it looks like that’s what’s about to happen, because no way will I be giving her back to him.
I push away from the door and head back downstairs to find out what the fuck is going on.
When I get downstairs, I see everyone is over by Casper on the couch. They step back when the see me, and I look down at her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask no one in particular.
“Vincent is on his way,” Savage murmurs, and I roll my eyes. They all act like he’s going to burn the place down. He has a temper when it comes to Casper, but he’d never do anything that would actually upset her.
“You’re all standing around like it’s a goddamn funeral. Savage, get Julie back upstairs. Scribe, get in my office. The rest of you clear out. He’s gonna be pissed as fuck when he sees Cas like this and I’d rather not make it a scene.”
The guys move away, and I look down at Cas as she sits up on the sofa.
“You realize there might be a funeral,” she says, sounding defeated.
I put my hand on her shoulder and smile down at her. “He’s gonna be pissed as fuck, Mackenzie.”
I laugh as she throws my arm off her shoulder and makes a growling sound. I love that woman like a brother, so I can’t help but poke the bear. She might be pouting about what Vincent is going to do when he gets her, but she isn’t fooling anyone. She gets off on how he acts towards her.
Turning to walk away, I see Vincent enter the club and make a beeline for Cas. I go into my office and shut the door behind Scribe and me before the shit hits the fan.
Taking my seat at my desk, I see Ham on the couch with Scribe. Knox “Scribe” Robertson and I go way back, and having him as our resident accountant/hacker is the reason for the nickname. He keeps logs of all our shit and spends about ninety percent of his time on his computer. If he’s not on his computer, he’s on his bike doing club shit. From what I hear, he’s got a long line of women chasing after him, but he’s yet to let one hold him down.
“So what the fuck happened tonight?” I ask, wanting to get the whole story.