Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I winked at him. “And don’t you forget it.”
“Hopefully having your light shine on me will help me forget the life that was lost because of me.” I kept stroking his chest, hoping to offer him some comfort while he struggled with getting his story out. “There was a group of hostages who had been taken. I can’t tell you where or when because that would be crossing a line. But I can say that my commanding officer needed to buy some time for the covert team to get in place to infiltrate so they could safely extract everyone. A negotiator wasn’t available, and they couldn’t get one there fast enough. The timeline was so fucking tight because a couple of the hostages were in bad shape. It was a situation where minutes counted, so he asked me to give it a try since I was their best bet at keeping the bad guys distracted long enough to get the job done.”
“I can understand why he chose you with how good you are with words,” I murmured.
“Yeah, well that didn’t do me much good because they brought one of the hostages with them.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “We weren’t expecting it, and things went even more to shit from there. I tried to get him out myself in the chaos, but I was outnumbered. We both got shot, and I thought for sure that was the end for me. But one of the covert guys showed up just in time to save my life. Only mine, though. The hostage was already dead, and we couldn’t even take his body with us. Leaving him behind is what truly haunts me. He had a family in the States who never got to bury him.”
I pressed a kiss against the bullet scar on his shoulder, grateful he had made it out alive. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” His smile held no humor, only regret. “Not that it does much good for his wife or daughter.”
“You’re not responsible for the hostage’s death.” I twined my arms around his neck. “You tried your best to help them, but sometimes the odds are stacked against you. Just like I’ve felt like they’ve been for me my entire life until I met you.”
“I have a fuck of a lot of regrets, but l am so damn grateful that the shit I went through finally led me here. To you.”
I drifted my hand lower to tug on the barbell piercing in his nipple. Shaw was the best distraction for my worry about my mom. Maybe I could be the same for him and get rid of his nightmares.
7
STONE
It was two days before anyone found something for us to put our plans in motion. One thing we discovered was that Tommaso had been charged with murder and was currently in jail without parole. When it came to Marylin, that news could be bad or worse.
They might have snatched Britta’s mom and were holding her until Tommaso was released. Deviant said this would happen soon because the evidence against Tommaso was circumstantial and the key witness had just disappeared. Or they’d taken Marilyn simply to get rid of her, and she was already dead.
As much as I hated to keep shit from my woman, I didn’t think sharing that information would do any good. It was all speculation at this point anyway. So I filed it away as club business in my mind.
Britta had already been plagued with worry and despair, but she’d tried to hide it. I still managed to distract her more often than not. Not just with sex—although we fucked like bunnies—but by showing her around town, telling her more about club life, and getting to know each other better.
Britta had quickly become my emotionally safe space. My nightmares hadn’t been as intense after that first night, and I had a feeling that with her in my bed, they might go away completely someday.
We were cuddled up in the lounge, talking with a few of my brothers and their old ladies when my phone rang. It was on the end table beside me, so I reached over and picked it up. The number was one that I memorized so that it wasn’t written down anywhere or saved in my phone—Francesco’s private line.
I flashed the screen at Whiskey, who immediately pulled his phone from the inner pocket of his cut and sent a text.
“Gotta take this, baby,” I murmured to Britta before kissing her temple and pushing to my feet.
“Stone,” I answered as I walked toward my office.
Neither of us bothered with pleasantries.
“Carlos checked in. Apparently, he managed to get Darius smashed. Carlos didn’t want to endanger his cover if the asshole happened to remember their conversation, so he was cagey with his questions. Darius is definitely aware of the situation. He confirmed that they were holding—I won’t use his language—someone who’d been hiding from them. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know where Miss Hughes is.”