Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Tried, Dad. They got away,” he says.
“Raze, you and Killer keep following. Report back if you catch up to them,” I order.
“You got it,” they say and jump back on their bikes. “Dancer, call an ambulance. I think an artery might have been nicked.” When I look over at him, he already has his ear to his phone.
“I tried, Dad,” Dom repeats. There are tears in his eyes, and it hurts to see them. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen my boy cry in my life. He always struggles to be strong and sees tears as weakness. He learned that from his old man, but I can feel my own tears.
Dragon, they have Nicole.
My hand trembles as I pat Dom lamely on the chest. “We’ll get her back,” I tell him, my voice gruff. “Do you have any idea who the men were?”
“Yeah, the guy that was shooting at me as I followed them had a cut on.” He takes a minute to catch his breath and I let the fire inside me continue to build. A fucking club made a move on my kid and my wife. I’m going to destroy everyone in my path. They better pray I get my woman back or I’ll be dragging them into hell with me. By the time I'm done, there won’t be anything left of the state of Kentucky.
“Who?” I demand, giving him a little shake. He’s trying to fall asleep. I can’t allow that. He needs to stay awake. Where in the fuck is the ambulance?
“Saw the patch on the back …” he whispers. “Feral Kings.”
My blood runs cold. They kill. They don’t take hostages.
“Dancer, you need to call Skull. I’m storming their damn compound tonight. Call all our allies. Fuck, call in every marker I have. I’ll call T and get his club involved. These fuckers think they can come into my territory and attack my family—take my fucking wife? I’ll kill them. I’m going to kill every fucking one of them.”
“You got it,” he answers as an ambulance pulls up, sirens blaring.
I move back as the paramedics work on Dom. I stand there and watch. Anger and fear boil in my gut. I hear the sound of pipes racking and turn to watch Killer and Raze pull up. The fucking van got away.
“Speak,” I order as they walk over. I don’t look at them. I’m too busy watching them work on my boy. Memories flash through my mind of the day Nicole almost died. I could do nothing but watch as she was taken away in an ambulance. I make a fist with my hand to hide the way I’m trembling like a damn child.
“The van was abandoned just above the Walmart Distribution Center. It was cleaned out, except for two things.”
They begin loading Dom into the ambulance. I walk over.
“He’s okay. We’re going to take him to the hospital. He’s lost a lot of blood, but it wasn’t an artery. Just really deep,” the paramedic says. I recognize him. His brother is one of our prospects.
I walk over to Dom. “I’ll be there soon. Going to get shit lined out.”
“I’m going with you,” he says.
“Then you better go get stitched up.”
“Someone get to Thea. She’ll be worried. She’s pregnant. I don’t want her stressed.”
“Breaker’s on it,” Bull says. “They’ll probably meet you at the hospital.”
“Thanks,” Dom says.
“We’ll talk later about how you knocked my daughter up,” he mutters. Dom tries to smirk as they load him in the ambulance.
I turn to look at Raze and Killer. “Show me what was in the van,” I order.
Raze hands me what looks like a polaroid picture. I didn’t know they still made those fuckers. Shock explodes through me as I see the picture of a smiling red head reflecting back in the picture—a damn old picture. It’s a face I haven’t seen in a fucking lifetime. A face I never wanted to see again. A face attached to forgotten memories that I never wanted to remember.
Underneath the picture on the faded white flap that looks more yellow are words that make the shock slowly fade into fear—an emotion that I’m not used to feeling that often.
You took everything from me. Now, I’ll take it from you.
My body jerks as I read the hastily scrawled words.
“Dragon, what is it?” Dancer says, noticing my reaction.
I clear my throat. “An old ghost,” I explain, trying to figure out what exactly is going on.
“What do you mean?”
I hand over the picture I’m holding to Dancer. He and Bull look at it and their reactions are much like mine.
“Irish?” Dancer says and I nod.
The picture is an old polaroid of none other than our former brother, turned traitor, Irish. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what the fuck is going on. All I really understand right now is I have to find my woman. She’s in a fuck of a lot of danger and things just got so fucking complicated I don’t even know where to begin.