Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“You’re going to kill me anyway, so I’d rather die not telling you a fucking thing.”
This guy, he’s young, maybe late twenties, but he has a strength about him that I admire. No matter how hard I’ve pushed, or what I’ve done, he won’t break. He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t flinch, he just holds strong, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine. There is a level of respect for someone who is that loyal, and if I were running my own club, I’d take him in.
A thought comes to my mind.
I loosen my grip. “Tell me somethin’, and I’ll let you be.”
His eyes flash, and he narrows them with suspicion. “I’m fuckin’ listening.”
“Why are you workin’ for these people?”
My question shocks him, and as his eyes dart across my face, I can see he’s trying to come up with an answer.
I know he’s being honest when he speaks, I know because he sounds exactly like I did once. A somewhat broken soul who is looking for anywhere to call home.
“It’s that or I die on the streets. Least this way, I get to eat.”
“You do drugs?”
Shaking his head, he growls, “Never touched one in my life.”
I release him, and, for a minute, he looks like he is considering running but he doesn’t. He holds strong, shoulders back, his eyes never leaving mine even though I overpower him significantly. I take a step back, turning away from him.
“Why are you letting me go?”
Pausing, I look back at him. “I respect loyalty. You ever want to get away from this shit, you know where to find me.”
That’s written all over the back of my jacket as I walk away from him.
Reaching my bike, I get on and start it up.
I don’t look back, I take off into the crisp morning light, heading for a new location.
I will find who ordered this hit on Bear, and I will make them wish they were never born. I’m not letting this one go. We lost a loyal and passionate member of our club to some fucked up drug scum, and I’m not going to sit by and let it happen again. They think their little attack on us was retaliation for me killing one of their own, but they don’t know who the fuck they’ve just unleashed.
I’m just riding on the outside of town when I notice I’m being followed.
A low growl rumbles through my chest as I recognize the bike trailing me. It’s Cade, I’d know that bike anywhere.
That motherfucker is following me, and he’s doing nothing to hide it.
Pulling over onto the side of the road, I get off the bike and spin toward him just as he comes to a stop. His boot barely hits the dirt when I growl, “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, Cade?”
He stares at me with that intense gaze that can read my soul better than anyone else. “I’m makin’ sure you’re not doin’ stupid shit. We lost a club member, Spike. We don’t need a fuckin’ war.”
“We do need a fuckin’ war,” I bark. “Because those fuckers took one of our own.”
“Because you’ve been goin’ around droppin’ people like flies and leavin’ them to be found. That ain’t how we do things.”
“That ain’t how you do things, that ain’t how Jackson does things, but it’s sure as fuck how I do things.”
His eyes narrow with rage as he steps toward me. “You’re playin’ with fire, and you’re goin’ to get more of our members hurt if you don’t pull your fuckin’ head in.”
My heart jumps and my chest tightens. “What did you just say to me?”
“You fuckin’ heard me. You mess with people, they come back and we lose ours. It’s fuckin’ careless. You know better.”
I hit him, it comes out of nowhere, just a release of anger that I’ve been smothering in my chest for months. His head swings to the side and he stumbles backward, but by the time his eyes meet mine again, they’re filled with the same kind of unhinged rage. His fist clenches, and he drives it into my jaw, the loud crack filling the silence around us.
Then, it’s on.
I lunge at him, slamming my body into his as he topples down to the ground. My fist finds his face, over and over I drive it in, unable to stop. Using his knee, he launches me off by kicking me as hard as he can, and then he’s rolling toward me. His elbow connects with my jaw as his body comes over mine, and we roll through the dirt, fists flying.
“Fuckin’ break it up.”
The sound of Muff’s angry voice barely pierces my ears. I didn’t even hear the bike.
I don’t stop, and neither does Cade.
“I said,” Muff bellows, using his boot to launch me off Cade when I get myself back on top of him, “break it the fuck up.”