Broken Wings Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Royal Bastards MC – Louisville KY #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Royal Bastards MC - Louisville KY Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
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We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.

Another loud, booming knock rattles the front door then a deep male voice shouts, “Open the fucking door! I know you’re in there, Allie!”

The sound of my name being shouted causes my heart and lungs to freeze behind my ribs. I’m so shocked and scared, I could fall over and fucking die from fright right this second.

I was wrong.

He found us… Somehow, Mikhail found us….

Levi squirms in my arms and I realize I’m squeezing him too tight. Loosening my arms, my mind races, trying to figure out a plan to protect him.

I have to figure out a way to protect him.

Another round of loud, booming knocks echoes throughout the house.

“I swear to god if you don’t open this fucking door, I’ll break it down!” the man roars.

Not knowing what else to do, I shout back, “I called the police! They’ll be here any minute!”

Pulling Levi up to his feet, my eyes dart around the room and land on the closet.

I haven’t called the police yet, but there’s no reason not to now once I get my hands on my phone.

But I need to hide Levi first. I need to buy him some time. Given how far out we are, I have no clue how long it will take the police to get here.

A couple of seconds could be the difference between life and death.

And I know without a doubt that if these guys hand us over to Mikhail, we’re dead.

“I don’t care about the fucking pigs!” the man yells as I drag Levi over to the closet. “Last chance, Allie. Open the door or I’m breaking it down!”

“Stay here, honey, and whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t come out,” I whisper into Levi’s ear and then shut the closet door.

His whimper of fear tears at my heart, but I can’t let it slow me down.

Making a dash for my phone, I grab my purse and tip it over, spilling everything onto the floor while I yell back, “Okay! I’m coming! Give me a minute!”

The house is blissfully silent for the ten seconds it takes me to pick my phone out of the mess.

Then there’s a loud boom that seems to shake the very foundations.

“I said I’d be there in a minute!” I shriek in desperation as I run out of the room.

My fingers fumble, struggling to slide my phone on. I know there’s an emergency function but fuck if I remember how to use it.

Running down the stairs, I trip and nearly fall down and break my neck when another loud boom hits the front door.

From here, I can see the frame around the door starting to crack.

Shit.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I only have seconds to figure out my plan of action. I need a weapon to hold these guys off. I don’t have a gun, but maybe there’s something I could use in the kitchen...

Pure terror claws up my throat from my chest as I run past the door and hear the men outside counting.

“One… two…”

Behind me the door bursts open and I whip around to get a look at what I’m up against.

Chests heaving, three men look back at me. Three big, dangerous looking men dressed in black leather vests and covered in ink.

I instantly recognize the guy on the right, the blond from Walmart, but it’s the guy in the middle, the guy with dark hair and blazing eyes, that seems like the biggest threat.

It’s not his tall, muscular frame that causes alarm bells to ring in my head, or all the tattoos covering most of his exposed skin.

No, it’s his face. A face that’s so damn beautiful and scary at the same time he could very well be the son of Satan.

“Allie,” he growls, staring at me with an intensity that pins me to the spot and steals all my breath.

There’s something in the way he looks at me and says my name… something that’s both intimate and violent at the same time.

He takes one step inside, scuffed, black boot landing heavy on the door they knocked over, and I suddenly remember how to move again.

I also remember I haven’t called the police yet.

Thumb swiping across my phone, I quickly dial 911 and hit the green button as I make a desperate dash for the kitchen.

I can barely hear the sound of the phone ringing over the heavy footsteps pounding behind me.

Running like my fucking life depends on it, I slam into the counter once I reach the kitchen and search frantically through the trash for a knife, a fork, anything I can use to keep the men back.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Help!” I scream at the phone. “They’re trying to kill—”

A hand slaps over my mouth, cutting off my plea.

I scream against the smothering palm. Then I reach up with my free hand, trying and failing to yank away the firm arm connected to the hand.



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