Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
“You mean their sister-aunts,” Deacon said with a snort.
“There to reclaim what they think is theirs,” Ozzy muttered under his breath.
“Maybe Jet needs to drop a fuckin’ dime on those motherfuckers to her pig family,” Cage suggested. “Get them to notify the feds about what’s goin’ down. The feds cleaned up that mess once—”
“Since when does the Fury work with the pigs?” Ozzy grumbled, cutting him off.
“Since we got kids and ol’ ladies. You know, fuckin’ family,” Judge barked. “We got women and children to protect. My ol’ lady’s pregnant. So’s Reese and Stella. None of us want to risk any of them. You got me? If we gotta snitch on those motherfuckers, then we fuckin’ snitch.”
“Ain’t snitchin’,” Trip said. “More like givin’ them a helpful tip like the good citizens we are.”
Ozzy grunted and shook his head. “No reason for us not to handle them ourselves.” Right now, he’d love to take some of those fuckers out. Maybe it would relieve some of his goddamn frustration.
“You got nothin’ or nobody to lose, asshole,” Sig growled.
For fuck’s sake, he didn’t need to be reminded that he’d lost everyone who’d ever mattered.
He surged to his feet and shoved his chair backward with a loud scrape. “Fuck this shit.”
“Sit the fuck down, Oz,” Trip ordered, but Ozzy didn’t stop.
Fuck this. Fuck them.
Fuck everyone.
“Ozzy! Get the fuck back here. We ain’t done,” Trip yelled as Ozzy ripped open the door to the stairway.
“You might not be, but I am. I’m fuckin’ done.” He slammed the door behind him and jogged down the steps.
He needed a shot. Or two.
Or a whole goddamn bottle.
Whatever would numb his fucking brain and make him forget. Enough to make him pass the fuck out. Then maybe when he woke up tomorrow morning, it would be easier.
Every day should be getting easier.
It should be.
It wasn’t.
It was getting worse. The ache in his chest grew more every fucking day until now it was trying to smother him.
As soon as his boots hit the main floor, his gaze landed on someone he was not thrilled to see.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered as he crossed the floor.
Fuck this place.
Instead of heading toward the bar, he strode toward the front door.
He wouldn’t be able to drink himself into oblivion with Crash hanging out in The Barn playing pool with Easy.
Getting smashed with Crash around was not smart. The men still sitting upstairs would not be happy if he got into a brawl with the Dirty Angel. All because he got his ass drunk and took his anger out on that motherfucker.
Even though he now knew Liz had never been the one, Ozzy still owed the man a good beat-down for stealing Liz right out from under him. Just for the principle alone.
“Yo!” Easy called out.
Ozzy ignored his brother and lengthened his stride. He couldn’t get the fuck out of the Fury clubhouse fast enough.
“Yo, Oz!” Easy called again. “Is the meetin’ over?”
For him, it sure fucking was.
He shoved open the door and stepped out into the late September night. He paused, tipped his head back, closed his eyes and filled his lungs. He held his breath until his lungs screamed, then blew it out.
He was as tightly wound as a spring about to snap.
He dug inside his cut for his Zippo and tin. Pulling out a hand-rolled, he tucked it between his lips and lit it. After sucking the tobacco smoke deep into his lungs, he opened his mouth and slowly let it roll out, watching the smoke rise into the dark.
He headed over to his sled that was parked out front, perched his ass against the seat with his legs extended out in front of him and decided to finish his cigarette while he contemplated his next move.
Him walking out of that meeting wasn’t going to sit well with Trip. Hell, it wouldn’t sit well with any of them.
But right now, he didn’t give a fuck. About anything.
Footsteps on the stones coming from the direction of the farmhouse had him twisting his head toward the sound and he groaned when he saw who was approaching.
“Lookin’ for your man?”
Liz’s steps faltered and she stopped. “No. I know where he is.” With a resigned sigh, she continued toward the entrance to The Barn.
“Liz!” he shouted, stopping her.
She paused and glanced back over her shoulder. Her face did not show any kind of happy.
He didn’t blame her. He’d been a dick. To her. To her new man.
That shit had kind of stung. But it had been nothing like the deep fucking pain he was suffering through right now. That was invading his every waking second.
“Get it now.”
He was surprised when she turned and came over to him. “What do you get?” She sounded annoyed and, with her hands on her hips, she tipped her head to the side, waiting for his answer.