Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I just assumed all that had waned over the long years and chalked it up to puppy love between two damaged kids.
“I really think we should get out of here before he loses it,” someone else says, but I’m too distracted to care who.
Just as Rush reaches between us to shove his boxers down, a loud siren wails from outside, and he abruptly breaks the kiss. His head lifts, and his attention gets strained as he listens to the next wailing of the siren.
I hear a lot of cursing on the other side of the door before Drex shouts, “Let’s roll!”
“Shit,” Rush bites out as he abruptly drops me to the floor. “Put on clothes.”
Whiplash please and thank you.
“What?” I ask like he’s lost his damn mind.
How can you go through all that madness just to get me, and then tell me to put my clothes on just when things are finally heating up?
He hurriedly tugs a pair of jeans on, and then he finds a shirt to pull on before he grabs his Death Chasers cut from the floor.
I hurry through the motions of dressing, even though I’m confused about this, as he starts freeing the door of his homemade barricade.
Motorcycles rev so loudly that the building feels like a steady vibration. It’s the first time I’ve heard so many of them starting up at once from inside the hangar.
Rush grabs my hand, giving no explanation, as he practically drags me through the barely-there crack in the barricade he’s made.
Everyone seems to be over the hostage situation, since everyone is hurriedly racing out of the hangar to some clandestine meeting place brought about by random sirens outside.
Rush straddles his bike, and I quickly pull on the spare helmet, but I pause as I stop to examine the helmet. It’s not the spare one after all. It’s a new one with a polished, metallic sort of writing on the side with my initials—KLC.
My eyes flick to his back as I quickly strap it on, and I find him studying me over his shoulder with those intense eyes.
When my arms slip around his waist, holding onto him with a more relaxed hold than I’ve been using, he cuts his gaze away, revving his bike a few times. In the next instant, we’re zooming out of the hangar, and it takes him no time to catch up to the rest of the crew.
He weaves in and out of the convoy, and I keep darting a look around, trying to figure out where it is we’re going so suddenly.
Maya is on the back of Axle’s bike with her legs wrapped around his waist instead of her arms, and she’s leaned back like she’s soaking in the sun on her face.
I really wish I knew her deal.
We ride beside them, and it takes a while before I realize we’re on path to go to the hospital. Drex is leading the pack, but Eve isn’t on the back of his bike. I’m not really sure where she is.
Drex turns into the hospital parking lot, and he parks in the middle of the driving path. Everyone pretty much parks right behind him, leaving a sea of bikes around the side.
Rush hops off, offering me his hand without looking at me, and I take it as he starts guiding me inside.
We get on the elevator with Drex, who casts a glare at Rush.
“We’ll be having a very long conversation about your stunt later,” Drex informs him as Axle, Maya, Sledge, and Snake load into the elevator with us.
“Sounds fun,” Rush states dryly. “Last I checked, she’s mine. You need to remember that shit in the future.”
I’m worried Drex is about to punch him to the elevator rendition of Bad Romance, but the doors slide open, and Rush drags me out. His arm drops around my shoulders as he releases my hand, and people all down the hallway stop to turn and look at the brigade of Death Chasers filling up the small space.
People part, eyes darting anywhere but on us. It’s this sort of power that draws people to the club. It’s also the power that corrupts the already broken minds of the people who see it as a better option in life than living the way they’re living.
“He was fine when I was here earlier,” Snake says quietly. “He was well on the way to stabilizing.”
Drex’s fists tighten as he stalks through the halls with more determination. A small breath of relief fills me when I hear Dash griping about the numerous IVs he’s attached to.
We all stop in front of the room where he’s sitting up, cursing at the nurse who is patiently trying to stab him with another needle.
The guy in the chair beside him casts us a bored look. “He just woke up a few minutes ago.”