Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Alarick’s fists clench.
“I’ll help you,” she goes on. “I started this with you, and I promise you, I’ll find a way to get Kendric out. We need to find Dax; he is the only person who is going to clear this.”
“You think I trust you fuckin’ cops?” Alarick laughs bitterly. “I thought Bennett was the only fuckin’ crooked one, but it turns out you fuckers are all lyin’ pigs.”
Zariah’s fists clench now. “You’re pushing me too far, Alarick. I’ve protected your club at risk of my entire career. I’m the only person you’ve got that is stopping Kendric from getting locked away for life.”
Alarick glares at her and she returns the look, both of them holding it for a long moment.
Something springs into my mind—something I hadn’t thought about with all the chaos.
“Someone in the club gave Dax information.”
I say it mostly to myself. Everyone turns to me, and Alarick’s eyes flash with confusion and utter rage. “What did you just say?” he asks me, his voice a low whip.
“Dax told me,” I say quickly. “That someone in the club was giving him information, that they were telling him our every move. It’s how he knew exactly what we were doing.”
Alarick snarls viciously, and Briella immediately takes his arm and tries to calm him down. There’s no point, though. He’s going to explode and it’s not going to be pretty.
“Who?” he barks.
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “I’m sorry, Alarick.”
He turns and just before he gets to the door, he looks back to Zariah. “You get my fuckin’ brother out of prison, or I’m coming for you.”
With that, he slams the door.
The entire room goes silent.
Where do we go from here?
19
WAVERLY
I take another sip of whiskey, and then look to Mykel and nod. He nods to Cohen, and Cohen gently hangs onto my arms so I don’t jerk when Mykel feeds the needle through my goddamned head. I close my eyes, grit my teeth and wait for the sharp sting. It comes quickly, and I cry out as Mykel pulls the stitch string through the wound, trying to close it up. He said he can get away with two stitches, but those two stitches feel like hell on earth.
I try not to cry, or to scream, but by the third pull, I’m whimpering and tears run down my cheeks. “Fuck,” Mykel growls. “I’m sorry.”
“Just finish it, man,” Cohen orders.
One more to go.
One more.
I feel the sharp sting, followed by a long throb of pain as Mykel pulls the last string through and then ties it. When he’s done, I open my eyes and he looks down at me, clearly feeling fucking bad about what he just had to do. He swipes a tear away from my cheek with his thumb and then hands me the bottle of whiskey. I swallow another shot down before Cohen helps me to sit up.
“I’ve seen grown men react worse than that,” he tells me, smiling. “You did good.”
I give him a grateful smile, and then take a deep, shaky breath. “Well, it’s not like today could have gotten any worse.”
Cohen’s face gets stony, and he looks to Mykel. “This is goin’ to erupt into somethin’ the club has never seen before.”
“Yeah,” Mykel mutters, his voice thick.
I sit, quietly, because what else is there to say? Tonight, everything we thought was going to happen was completely thrown out, and the worst of the worst took place. Our plan became a fucking nightmare and now we have a member in prison, a bad man on the run, and no fucking idea about where to go next.
What the fuck are we supposed to do now?
“I’m goin’ to get going, see what Alarick needs me to do. You two good?”
We both nod, and Cohen leaves. Mykel cleans up and I go to my room, brushing my teeth and washing my hands before staring at myself in the mirror. That’s going to leave a scar on my forehead, but it’s nothing compared to the scar this whole thing is going to leave on the club. I clench my eyes shut, take a shaky breath, and then walk out and climb into bed.
Mykel comes in only minutes later and, taking his shirt off, climbs into my bed with me. I hold my breath, quite shocked at the fact that he’s deciding to spend the night with me, but not at all ungrateful. I don’t want to be alone, but it’s not like we’ve had much of a chance to talk about how things are going between us, what with the whole fucking world upending.
“Zariah said I have to distance myself from the club,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” Mykel says, his voice low and husky.
“Does that mean . . . I have to move out of here?”
He puts his hands up behind his head and is quiet for a moment. “No,” he tells me. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”