Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“This is wrong. So fucking wrong,” Drake groans. “If we make it out of this, I’m moving somewhere safer. Like the back alleys of Vegas or some shit,” he adds.
“Give me the gun. I can’t take it anymore,” Maya says.
“Call your fucking boyfriend and tell him to bring the entire fucking club to come save us,” Drake volleys.
“Why do we need saved? We just need our driver to slow down, let the convoy get ahead, and then let Sarah save herself. Trust me, she can do it,” Maya harps from the back.
“They think we died in that clown van when they blew it up,” I point out. “If I slow down, they’ll notice, and someone will turn around to come investing—”
“Car thirty-two, respond,” a foreign voice says in the car, startling the shit out of me and causing Maya to squeak.
When no one responds, the voice comes over again.
“Car thirty-two, respond. Car thirty-two, respond,” it says again.
“Why does it feel like we’re car thirty-two?” Maya asks with a weighted tone of dread.
Awkwardly holding the wheel around my lap-corpse, I quickly use my other hand to toss back the walkie where the beckoners await.
“Car thirty-two, respond. What’s our tail look like?”
“What the hell am I going to do with this?” Drake hisses.
“There are two dead men in the back, and one on Drex’s sister’s lap like a bad fashion accessory. You’re the only guy in here, and they’re expecting a man to talk. Clearly, it’s not a specific man,” Maya gripes.
“Car thirty-two, respond,” the voice says again.
I notice a car up front slowly pulling out like it’s looking back in the rearview at a broader angle. The desert is a hard thing to gain visibility or depth-perception in when the heat is this thick.
The darkly tinted windows surrounding us will help keep Maya and Drake from being visibly spotted.
“Answer them,” I hiss.
“They’re going to expect code talk or some shit,” Drake barks.
“Car thirty-two, respond.”
I hear a click of a gun, and my eyes widen as I spot Maya holding Sarah’s gun on a wide-eyed Drake. He doesn’t blink as he lifts the walkie to his mouth.
“Breaker, breaker. Our tail’s a waggin’, but the pigs are still in the pin and not on our ass,” Drake says, sounding like…an idiot.
Maya drops the gun and scrubs a hand over her face, while I groan from the front seat.
“You held a fucking gun on me?” Drake asks in righteous outrage.
“Car-thirty two, no wise cracks. Any road rage in the rearview?” the voice asks.
“What the fuck is road rage?” Drake snaps.
“Has to be talking about the club, since they know Sarah is affiliated with them. It’s not club related, though. Eve would be a much easier, and more realistic target,” Maya says.
“Nope. Just dust and cactus pussy in the rearview,” Drake says…still sounding like an idiot.
“Roger that. Keep a close eye.”
“Cheese and fucking rice, I can’t believe that worked,” Drake groans as he goes completely limp with a whimper.
“Okay. So now we just have to stay close, since there’s no way of outrunning them, pretend we belong, and somehow not get captured or killed when we reach our unknown, likely horrifying destination,” Maya deadpans from the back seat.
“All I do is fucking ink people,” Drake grumbles in a daze. “The vagina squad is going to get me killed one day. Probably today.”
Chapter 28
RUSH
Two orderlies fall out of my way as I take a turn, quickly stalking down the hospital corridor, searching the waiting rooms one by one.
“Maya’s still not answering,” Axle grinds out.
“Maybe they stopped for ice cream just to piss you off for being such controlling dicks. AJ is a bit of a free spirit bitch that way,” Jude drawls, running a hand through his blond hair as he chews the end of his straw.
“You should have given Kara a fucking phone,” Axle snaps at me.
“Then he wouldn’t have her under his thumb,” Jude adds as he absently glances in the next waiting room.
“They found nothing on the roads surrounding our area?” I ask Axle in a calm tone that belies the storm brewing just under my increasingly incensed surface.
“Scorch marks from what looks to be a hazardous fireworks show, and a lot of shell-casings, but no sign of Drake and the girls. I’m telling you, it’s just AJ being a cunt—”
Snake stops talking, his brow furrowing as he reads the phone in his hands.
Fucking idiot gets distracted too easily.
“Can you call Maya’s people to trace her phone? Maybe Drake’s?” I suggest to Axle.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Drake and Maya are probably in on this too. You have been a super controlling ass over a girl who is a necessary guest. Not a fucking captive. Not to mention the outrageous fucking way you’ve treated the President’s sister.”
I just barely stop myself from drawing my gun on him.