Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
My head fell. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “No, that’s bullshit. I do know. Now. But I fucking didn’t know that the faith I was raised in was a fucking sex ring. I had no fucking idea that everything I knew was wrong.”
I could feel Smiler’s gaze boring through mine. “You were my best friend, Rider. You were my fuckin’ brother. I don’t let no one in. I don’t ever get close to no one. But I did you . . . and you turned out to be a fuckin’ rat.”
“I know,” I said, feeling like shit. I raised my head. “I don’t have the words, other than I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would in a second. I’d have stayed with the Hangmen and told them exactly who was fucking with their business. But I didn’t. And for that I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You were never in the marines, were you? All that was just some bullshit cover story.”
I sighed. “I never served. I learned about medicine at The Pasture. My uncle wanted me to be able to heal the people.” I gave a sardonic laugh. “He wanted me to appear Christ-like. A miraculous healer to our flock. But no, there was no military service. I never left my home once before I came here.”
Smiler’s expression seemed to falter. But he quickly schooled his features and pointed at the clothes. “You better get dressed. Prez is sendin’ you in soon. And Rider?” I tipped my chin in response. “You better not fuck this up, and it better not be another fuckin’ trap.”
“It isn’t. You have my word.”
“Well your word ain’t shit to me now. But I’ll promise you one thing.” He stepped right up to me. “If you lure us into a trap, if this is some fucked-up Oscar-worthy act . . . I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself.”
With that, my former best friend walked out of the barn. I threw on the clothes. As the familiar feel of leather smothered my skin, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Right. All this shit felt so fucking right.
The sound of voices came from the front of the barn. The door slammed open. Tank stood in the doorway. “Get the fuck out,” he ordered.
The biker boots that felt so fucking good on my feet sounded like thunder on the old floor of the barn. The comforting smell of leather drifted to my nose, calming my nerves. When I reached the door and stepped outside, all the brothers were gathered around . . . all standing around a fucking matte-black and chrome chopper.
The same model I used to own.
Smiler flicked the keys at me. Ky approached me, getting right in my face. He cast his disgusted gaze over my leathers. “This ain’t no fuckin’ welcome-home gift, you got that, dickhead? This is so you get the fuck in that place undetected, and so we can trace your every fuckin’ move.”
Vike tapped the tank of the chopper. “GPS. What a fuckin’ good stalkin’ invention.”
Ky’s chest bumped into mine. “One turn you shouldn’t make, any sign that you’ve jumped ship and joined your long-lost fuckin’ Manson family, and we’ll know about it.” His mouth went to my ear. “And then we’re comin’ for you, and your kiddie-fiddler brother.”
My jaw clenched. “I won’t fuck up,” I said. “I want those people saved. And I want all the other fuckers dead. And Judah . . . ” I forced the words from my mouth. “You get him. As promised.”
Styx clapped Ky on the shoulder. Ky moved aside, and Styx signed, “AK decided to give you a four-hour head start to get your part in this done. We’ll be right on your heels to come do ours. That entrance better be open like you said, and if there’s anyone in our way—kid, bitch or dick—we’ll fuckin’ mow ‘em down. Got it?”
I nodded my head. Styx stayed planted in front of me for several seconds, fucking eyeballing me to push home his point. I glared back. The prez smirked, then stepped out of my way.
I threw my leg over the chopper’s saddle. It took about two minutes for muscle memory to return and find my seat. I slid the keys into the ignition. As the engine roared to life, I noticed Bull up ahead on his Harley.
“Bull will drive you out to make sure there’s no fuckin’ detour. Then you’re on your own until we arrive,” Styx signed. “Don’t fuck up.”
Nodding, I revved the engine. Bull pulled out onto the narrow graveled road that led from the barn to the clubhouse. As the chopper cruised along the path, I focused on the task ahead.
In a matter of hours, it’d all be done.
I ignored the pit that was caving in my stomach. I had about an hour’s ride until the shit hit the fan. I intended on just riding. Nothing was simpler than when it was just me and the open road.