Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I’ll set myself on fire and walk into their club just to burn it down if I must.
I march down the corridor to Bear’s room, sagging in relief when silence greets me inside. The stack of images from earlier are neatly piled on his desk. Lowering myself into his chair, I shuffle through them, stopping when I reach their VP smiling up at me. If he’s in charge now, he can get me the information I need. Looking at this picture earlier, my body lit up. His pretty face drew me in. Callan “Pain” Cox is scrawled on the back in Bear’s scruffy handwriting. What if he’s the one who choked the life from my sister?
Heavy footfalls pound from outside the room, growing closer. I fold the image in half, stuff it in my pocket, and straighten the pile of photos as the door swings open.
“Rogue.” Bear lifts his chin, not an ounce of surprise on his face. His frame darkens the doorway.
“You said their president was killed, right?”
“Right,” he confirms, folding his arms over his chest.
“What if this is related? The timing is too weird to be a coincidence, right? They must have thought the Devils had something to do with it and killed Harley in retaliation.” My mind runs a mile a minute, trying to connect dots even if they’re not there.
“The deaths happened around the same time. They wouldn’t have known about him until after Harley’s death. I managed to get through to a contact at the station. Harley’s body—”
“Don’t say body,” I snap. “She’s not a slab of fucking meat. You taught her to walk. Jesus Christ. Do you even care that she’s dead?” I trip on the last word, grief consuming me.
“Rogue.” He pushes off the doorframe and bends in front of me. A calloused palm cups my cheek. The pad of his thumb swipes away my tears. “It’s killing me seeing you in this much pain. The thought of what some piece of shit did to Harley is unforgivable. I love that kid. We all do—did. But right now, emotions are high, and we need all the facts. What you’re suggesting will lead to war, and more of us will die.” I know that. The thought of Bear—or any of the brothers—dying hurts, but to do nothing? How would I be able to live with myself if it turns out I’m right?
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” I sniffle. She’s really gone.
“Come lie down for a minute.” He guides me to his bed and pulls back the duvet. “Rest.”
“I need to go to Mom’s.”
“I’ll go check in on her,” he assures me, helping me onto the mattress and covering me with the duvet.
“Are you sure?” Bear and my mother have never gotten along. Their personalities clash in every way.
“Just rest.” I watch him leave then turn to stare up at the ceiling. Thoughts barrage into my mind. Harley looking up at Callan’s beautiful face while his hands tighten around her throat. The people in each picture take his place as her murderer, until it’s me looking down at her with my hands around her small neck. I snatch up the pillow, throw it over my face, and scream into it until my throat gives out and exhaustion leaves me numb.
Sleep evades me, but I lie there anyway with my body frozen, my mind whirling, my soul broken. The clock on the bedside table ticks like a bomb.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Dawn breaks. The sun seeps through the small window, causing a halo of light to dance above the bed. Dust particles float endlessly through the rays. It’s calming.
Pushing myself upright, my bones protest. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. My long hair is in tangles that hang in clumps down my shoulders. I need a shower and a change of clothes. I brush my fingers through my hair the best I can and splash cold water on my face in Bear’s bathroom. The green of my eyes seems more vibrant against the dark circles sitting beneath them peering back at me in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and head toward the main room. Typically, the club is a graveyard until noon, but today everyone seems to be up.
“Princess.” Jenna says my name so quietly, like I’ll splinter into pieces if she raises her voice. A fragile vase to be handled with care. “Suppliers are due in a couple hours.” She chews on her lip, wearing the same clothes as last night. She probably stayed in Tyler’s bed. He sure as shit didn’t come looking for me.
“Fuck off, Barbie. Don’t bother her with that shit.” Tyler barks, like my thoughts conjured him. Strong arms fold over my shoulders from behind, wrapping against my chest. Tyler’s torso warms my back, but it offers no comfort.