Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“I’ll have Opie test it.”
In charge of overseeing our phantasia operation, Opie is an experienced chemist and will be able to pull this fake shit apart so we have a better understanding of what we are dealing with.
“This has got the Psychos written all over it,” says Gambit, our head of clubhouse security.
“That’s what I was thinking,” I agree. “They’ve been wanting into our trade for years. And this is it.”
“But we can’t be sure it’s synthetic phantasia or the Psychos,” Axe says.
“My gut tells me it is. But you’re right. Before we act we need to know who, what, where and how.” I turn to Bram, our tech wizard. “I want you to hack into town surveillance. If the Psychos are bringing this into our town, it will be on there somewhere.”
Bram nods. “It will take some time.”
“But time well spent.”
“It’s a long shot,” Axe says.
“They aren’t ghosts. If there is something to find, Bram will find it, and when he does, we’ll stop it before more people start dying.”
“How many deaths so far?” Bear asks.
“For now, this is the only one we know about.”
“It could be some college kid picking up bad dope while partying out of town and bringing it back here,” Bear adds.
“It might be. Let’s hope it is, and it’s not the Psychos bringing their venom into our town.”
“And if it is the Psychos?” asks Viking.
“Then we destroy their operations.”
Another murmur of agreement ripples through the room.
“No one comes into our town and peddles shit under our noses. And we’re going to make sure they hear the message loud and clear.”
And with that, I slam down the gavel and bring Church to an end.
CHAPTER 9
BELLE
Hours pass before Beast reappears, and by now my anger has long surpassed my fear and grief, and I am ready to kill the man who saved me.
When the door opens and his big body fills the doorway, I give him my best right hook and land my knuckles into the sharp contour of his jaw.
Pain ricochets across my bones and shoots up my arm.
Goddammit!
I step back, clutching my fist. It feels broken.
Beast simply raises an eyebrow at me. “Got that out of your system?”
I shake my hand to release the glowing pain in my knuckles.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I demand.
He walks deeper into the room and turns around to face me.
“I’m the guy who pulled you out of Gaston’s hands and saved your ass from the unthinkable things he was going to do to you.”
Dread spreads through my chest at the memory of Gaston’s hands on me. I swallow, my throat thick with fear as I recall the vile scent of his body as he pushed me over the table.
But I shove the memory away.
Uncle Maurice needs me to stay strong and focused if I’m to get us out of this mess.
“Where is my uncle?” I demand. “What have you done with him?”
“He is safe.”
Relief rushes through me. “He is?”
Beast could be lying.
Although, I get the feeling he isn’t.
I mean, I don’t know this guy from a bar of soap but there’s something in his gruff demeanor that makes me believe him.
“Yes,” Beast says.
“Will you take me to him?”
“In due course.”
“When?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Of course I do, asshole. Wouldn’t you in my situation?”
He glares back at me and then grunts.
Did he just agree with me?
I want to yell and demand more information, but I have a feeling it will be a waste of my energy. Beast isn’t going to give me anything if he knows I really want it. He’ll use that kind of information as a card up his sleeve. Something to barter for my submission, no doubt.
“I’ve had time to think,” he says.
“How keeping me a prisoner is a felony that comes with lengthy jail time?”
He ignores me. “About what I am going to do with you.”
“Does it involve showing me the front door and sending me on my merry way?”
He ignores me. “You have a debt to repay and I have decided on a repayment.”
“What debt?”
“Your uncle borrowed money from this club."
I let my arms fall to my side and take a giant step away from him. “You’re lying.”
With a grunt, he removes a folded letter from the breast pocket of his leather cut and hands it to me. “He borrowed twenty-five thousand dollars.”
I hold the contract with a shaky hand and the letters swirl across the paper as nausea sweeps through me. Twenty-five thousand dollars.
“This can’t be,” I whisper.
“He signed it.”
Beast isn’t lying. At the bottom of the page is my uncle’s distinctive signature.
Twenty-five thousand dollars… This can’t be happening.
I knew Uncle Maurice’s gambling had gotten bad. But I had no idea he had borrowed money to feed his addiction.
I suddenly feel dizzy. “I think I’m going to be sick.”