Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I stare out the massive window into the backyard and watch the torrential rain machine-gunning the concrete path with fat bursts of water.
The encounter with Gaston has me left me rattled and a ghostly finger runs up my spine. I can still see the menace in his eyes. The way they had swept up and down my body, shamelessly undressing me. Just the thought of him makes my skin ripple with goosebumps and nausea curdle in my stomach.
“Oh, Uncle Maurice, what have you gotten us into?” I whisper into the lonely kitchen.
The night feels unsettled.
Something tells me morning can’t come quick enough.
CHAPTER 4
BEAST
I steer my Harley toward the clubhouse.
It's the old castle ruins on the hill that overlooks St. Boniface.
It's raining now and I'm soaking wet. But after my encounter with Gaston in town, I needed to ride off my anger and fury.
Thirty minutes late, I pull into the garage beneath the clubhouse, which used to be a boat slip, and find Lars waiting for me. He greets me as I climb off my bike.
“Trust you to be late to your own goddamn inauguration celebration,” he says.
I’ve known Lars since we were kids. Basically we’re Ying and Yang. I’m a grumpy asshole with no patience, while he tends to find enjoyment in everything.
“They’ll wait,” I reply. I’m not one for parties and the idea of my inauguration has been a thorn in my side for weeks.
“An inauguration celebration is a big deal, Beast.”
“For everyone else,” I grumble.
I’m not big on being the center of attention. But tonight I will be the focus of every man and woman in the room, because I am officially accepting my role as president of the club.
In Knights’ tradition, when one president dies, his heir it is expected to step into the role. Three months ago, my father, Dodger, was the reigning President of The Knights of St. Boniface until he mysteriously vanished.
An investigation into his disappearance by both law enforcement and the club turned up nothing, until his bike was found at the base of the cliffs that run the length of St. Boniface a few weeks after he disappeared.
Two days later, his Knights cut washed ashore.
But there’s been nothing since.
It’s like he’s fallen off the fucking face of the Earth.
The police theorized he ran off the road and went over the cliff, and his body was washed out to sea. There was a three-day sea and air search, but his body has never been found.
In his absence, I stepped into the role as acting president. Then three days ago, I was officially announced as the new president of the Knights.
Much to my younger half-brother’s disgust.
He challenged my role. Said he was Dodger’s choice for president. But my brother didn’t receive the support of the club and he’s been sulking ever since.
I’m ready to be president. I was born for it. This club is in my veins and I will bleed for it every single day to ensure it survives anything that threatens it.
Like the Unhinged Psychos, a rival club from Bracken’s Lot, over in Cheskabord County.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Lars drawls as we hastily make our way up the massive cobblestone stairwell leading inside the castle ruins.
“I’m always in a fucking bad mood,” I remind him.
“True. But more so than usual. You know, we’re going to a party and not a goddamn funeral.”
“I ran into Gaston in town. He was trying to shake down an old man and his niece.”
Lars pulls a face. He can't stand Gaston. Not many people can. “Why the fuck don't we throw that fuckwit out of the club? He's bad news, Beast. You know it and I know it. Fuck, even Gaston knows it.”
“And you know the reason why I can't.”
Like a lot of the men in the club, he needs time to adjust to Dodger’s disappearance.
“Forgive me if I don't share your confidence in the little cunt.”
“I know he is walking a thin line,” I reassure him.
“Yeah, and as prez, it's up to you to make an example out of those who don’t work within the laws of our club.”
Lars is right, but I need to take my time. I need to consider how to handle Gaston and any other club brother who might test my patience and boundaries.
But tonight is not the night.
Tonight is for officially dedicating my life to my club as their president.
I rip open the door leading into the clubhouse. “Come on. Let’s get this the fuck over with.”
The moment I step into the clubhouse bar, it erupts with the sound of men cheering and banging their palms on the tables and bar top. Every man who wears a Knights of St. Boniface cut is in the room celebrating my official inauguration as president.
“At last you fucking show up to your own inauguration,” Viking says as he shoves a beer into my hand. He’s Lars’s father and the club VP.