Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Time to jet.
Yeah, it was.
Time to get Jet out of his system once and for all.
He might not have her cell phone but that didn’t mean he couldn’t track her down. He knew what she drove, where she worked, and, even better, where she lived.
Finding Jet shouldn’t be hard at all.
Unlike him.
Chapter Twelve
The borrowed cage he drove fish-tailed as he turned from Main Street into the unplowed lot at the garage, despite it being an all-wheel-drive. He jerked the wheel in the opposite direction and straightened out Jemma’s XC40.
Him, driving a fucking Volvo. Could his life get any lower than that?
Cage had cursed Rook the fuck out when he pounded on the door to his brother’s modular home at not even six this morning.
Not just any morning. Christmas fucking morning. It had snowed all fucking night, too. Which meant he needed to borrow a vehicle that could get him where he needed to go. And today that was not his FXSB Breakout. Not if he wanted to keep himself and his treasured Harley in one piece.
He thought his younger brother was going to punch him when he opened the door in just his boxer briefs with his hair a mess and eyes squinty, curse words filling the air.
“Gonna wake up Dyna, asshole.”
Rook had held out his palm. “Just need to borrow Jem’s wheels.”
Cage’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “For fuckin’ what?”
“To check on the four-legged buttmunch.”
Cage stared at him for the longest time while Rook stood waiting on the front deck, freezing his balls off.
He shook his outstretched hand again. “C’mon. I’ll bring the little asshole back to the farm with me, so I don’t have to borrow her cage again.” Wouldn’t have to borrow it again today, anyway.
“Don’t think she likes you enough to let you borrow her cage.”
“Don’t ask her.”
Cage huffed. “Yeah, right.”
“Ain’t you the king of your modular castle?”
Cage snorted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I also like bein’ inside that castle where it’s warm, so I ain’t stupid. I do somethin’ she don’t like, I’ll be standin’ outside lookin’ in just like you are right now.”
Rook sighed. “Forget it. Fuck that little bastard. He can starve.”
That got Rook the reaction he hoped for. With a frown and another searing curse, Cage lifted a finger and disappeared deeper into the house, returning a moment later to toss him the keys.
“You fuck up her ride, I’ll shoot you before she does.”
Rook grinned. “She got your goddamn balls in a vise, baby brother.”
“Yeah, well, she also sucks ‘em like a pro, so fuck off.”
“I heard that!” came a sleepy voice from deeper within the house.
Cage made a told-you-so face. “See? Now you’re gonna have to suck ‘em for me.”
Rook gripped the keys tighter and blew him a kiss. “I’ll let the little hairy prick with needle-sharp teeth lick ‘em later. A smear of peanut butter will get him started.”
Cage faked a loud gag and slammed the door in his face, causing snow to fall from the roof and onto his head. The cold white powder skittered down the back of his neck and slipped under his clothes, causing him to shiver. He swore his asshole brother did that on purpose.
Now, after parking Jemma’s SUV—still in one piece—in front of the garage, he unlocked the front door and paused a step inside, waiting.
Like fucking clockwork. Furious high-pitched barking echoed through the empty garage.
“Just me, asshole.” He needed to figure out a name for the little monster, though “asshole” fit perfectly.
Apparently, the dog didn’t give a shit who it was since he continued to yap loudly.
“I feed your ass. Gave you a damn warm spot to sleep. Make sure you don’t die of thirst, you motherfucker. Show me some respect!” he yelled out over the dog’s barking.
That brought on another round of fresh, ear-piercing hell from wherever the asshole was hiding.
He sighed and headed over to his large two-tier rolling Snap-On toolbox along the far wall. He had pulled out the bottom drawer, removed the tools and filled it with clean rags and an old towel, making the fucker a comfy bed. A comfy warm bed out of the cold and snow.
He could see the depression where the mini-monster had made a nest to curl up and sleep.
The office was a lot warmer than the shop area, but he knew better than to leave the creature locked in the office. Reilly wouldn’t appreciate the smell, or the mess, if the dog pissed and shit where she worked. At least in the shop area, if the dog couldn’t hold his piss or shit, Rook could hose down the concrete in the bays. He was tempted to pick up some of the tiny turds and scatter them inside Cage’s toolbox which was lined up next to his.
A little token of his brotherly love and affection.