Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Jared had been my number three back on our military contracts. At one time, I’d trusted him with my life, same as I did with the men in this room. He was sharp, reliable, one of the best, but then something changed. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was because there were no major incidents, and no obvious betrayals. I’d just a feeling, a slow-growing unease when it came to him. A gut instinct that told me he wasn’t the same man I used to trust. And my gut had never once steered me wrong.
Judging by the way the rest of my team reacted, they felt it too.
There were three reasons I’d invited him here today. First, I needed to see if that uneasy feeling remained when we were back on home ground, working together. Would that itch still be there, the one that told me something was off? Second, he was bringing me my new TAC-50 rifle—a custom setup from a friend in the Canadian Special Forces. That rifle was going to be crucial when we went in for Piper.
And third, I had spoken to Cookie earlier that morning. Cookie was one of Wolf’s men—his wife had been a victim of human trafficking, and because of that, he never stopped tracking the industry, never stopped looking for information. He had a network unlike anyone else, and when I’d mentioned my concerns about Jared, he’d only given me one piece of advice—keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer.
I knew—deep down—Jared was up to something.
Maybe he was skimming off the top of military contracts. Maybe he was cutting corners, putting us in danger while keeping himself out of harm’s way. Maybe he was feeding intel to someone he shouldn’t be. There were a million possibilities, and I needed to figure it out, because I knew I’d be getting called back to the pits soon.
And the last thing I needed was to be watching my own back for the wrong reasons.
JAGGER
I sat, my muscles coiled tight, watching Preacher struggle to process what I had just told him. He wasn’t a man who lost control easily, but right now, his whole world was shattering.
“She…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “My baby…”
The next second, he snapped. With a roar, he flipped his desk. The solid wood behemoth that normally took two guys to move went crashing over with an ear-splitting boom, papers were flying through the air, and a bottle of whiskey shattered on the floor.
I jumped up, barely dodging the wreckage as he stalked across the room, his body vibrating with rage. Then, without hesitation, he started punching the wall, over and over. Fist to drywall. Fist to brick. Blood smeared across the surface, but he didn’t stop.
“Preach,” I barked, keeping my tone sharp but controlled. “Stop.” He didn’t. I stepped forward. “Preacher, stop.”
His shoulders rose and fell in ragged breaths. His forehead pressed against the cracked wall, his bloody knuckles flexing at his sides.
Then, finally, he spoke. “I failed her, Jagger.”
His voice was so broken, so tormented, that it hit me right in the fucking chest.
“No, you didn’t.”
His laugh was bitter, sharp. “How could I not know what was happening to her?”
Kyle’s mom had been a manipulative bitch, we all knew that. She’d damn near started a war between us and another MC. Preacher had stopped that, laid it all out in front of her, and given her an ultimatum. That day, he had told her to pack her shit and leave, or he’d make her disappear.
She had made a lot of enemies. He had known she was a liability. A problem. A psychotic mess that he needed to cut out of his life. But what he hadn’t known was that she had been beating his daughter bloody. That she had made Kyle’s life hell every single day. That she had broken her in ways no one had seen.
His grip on the table of liquor was so tight his fingers turned white. He picked up a bottle of whiskey, pulled the top off, and took a deep pull before setting it down with a thud.
“What do I do?” he rasped.
“Tell her the truth, Preacher.” I let the words sink in before adding, “She needs to know.”
His throat bobbed as he nodded slowly, his gaze locked on the floor. “I’m going to lose her,” he whispered.
I had the same fear, but I was going to fight for her, and he needed to, too.
Before I could say anything else, Duke burst through the door, his expression hard.
One word left his mouth, letting us know the shit had officially hit the fan.
“Church.”
KYLE
We were gathered in Church, and the air thick with tension. The name Demingo had been brought up again, and it sent a wave of unease through the room.
Then Duke strode in, his expression grim, and threw a stack of papers onto the table. “We found some shit.”