Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He won’t have to worry long though.
“This is your initiation,” I tell him and spin him into position in front of the door. “Make me proud, and you’ll no longer be wearing a prospect patch.”
“Fuck,” Hornet mumbles quietly. “Good help is so hard to find.”
I don’t have the luxury of considering how much Axe has been helping Hornet in the garage since he first shrugged on his prospect cut. Secrets, big or small, aren’t tolerated in my club. I have half a mind to line up TJ right behind Axe and take my chances considering he’s just now told me about something that had the potential to get all of us killed.
“All you have to do is kick the door in,” I whisper in Axe’s ear. He begins to tremble even more. “We’re right behind you.”
Axe glances over his shoulder, and I don’t know if he’s begging and pleading or saying goodbye to the group like a man.
“Don’t shoot!” he screams just as his boot hits the wood near the doorknob.
Seems he was begging. A man, a true Ravens Ruin member would never give a warning. He would allow his body to be riddled with bullet holes as the fuckers inside focused on him allowing us to focus on them.
The yelled warning in the front yard alerted the men inside just as we’d expected. I don’t know if Axe alerted them before we rolled into town, but he wasn’t privileged to the address until we pulled up down the street.
Axe’s body crumples to the floor just as the sound of bullets stop. The echo of clips being pulled and replaced is our cue to get to work. Briar enters first, and we all file behind him and spread out.
The anticipation, the build-up of things like this is where all of the energy is. It takes seconds before the half dozen people inside are incapacitated. Bloody mist seems to be suspended in the air around us. It combines with the smoke of spent bullets, leading to the familiar scent of destruction.
Gurgling draws my attention, but I don’t even give the guy that was hired to run this house a second of my time.
“Get his cut,” I order before I walk out of the house.
We’ll burn Axe’s leather tomorrow in front of the other members’ and girls. It’s tradition, but it’s also a way to remind everyone that the only way you’re honored in Ravens Ruin is if you die for the club. They’ll never know the details of what happened tonight. Their minds running wild with all of the possibilities is a much better deterrent.
“Where are you going?” Briar’s voice is close behind me as I walk toward the SUV.
We always move fast after a job, but I’m more anxious than usual to get out of there.
“I want to head back to the clubhouse,” I mutter as I pull open the passenger door.
“Are we waiting for Hornet?” he asks as he climbs in behind the wheel.
“He can ride with TJ. They have room now.”
All of the thoughts I’ve barely managed to keep at bay the last couple of days hit me like a ton of bricks in my chest. I know where I need to be, and I can’t seem to get there fast enough.
Chapter 22
Candi
It’s not time to wake up. I can feel it in my bones. We went to sleep late. With many of the guys gone, it gave us girls the chance to play Cards Against Humanity. My throat is still sore from all of the laughing.
Even though I could sleep for several more hours, my eyes still flutter open in the soft, new light of dawn.
I stiffen the second I see him standing over me, but it isn’t fear that is coursing through my veins and rocketing up my heart rate. Something akin to happiness fills me, and I know it’s reflected on my face. He’s avoided me the last couple of days, so being surprised that he’s here doesn’t begin to explain my feelings.
“Shh,” he whispers as his finger brushes over my lips.
I blink up at him, wondering when I’ll wake from this dream. It has to be an illusion, an adaptation of the fantasies repeating over and over in my mind. There’s no way Lynch is scooping me out of his sister’s bed and carrying me down the hall, because only in nightmares does my hand brush against him and pull away with a sticky red substance.
The blood on my fingers doesn’t scare me like it should. My first thoughts are of concern.
“You’re hurt,” I mumble as he kicks his bedroom door closed.
“It’s not my blood,” he grumbles as he crosses the room with me still in his arms.
He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights when we enter the bathroom. He simply walks me to the counter, sitting me down on the cold granite.