Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Daphne?” I asked, blinking hard, sure I was seeing things.
“I thought it was you,” she said, giving me that uncertain smile of hers.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, too aware of what this situation was to be kinder.
“I was getting ice cream across the street. I thought I saw you,” she added.
The ice cream place was a couple-minute walk away. And with no cut in the stone guard, she’d hopped over it and crossed traffic to get here.
The fuck was up with this kid?
Could a silly teenage crush make a girl so reckless?
“You need to leave,” I said, striding toward her.
“Ah, afraid it might be too late for that,” Sully said. And just then, I heard the rumble of bikes getting closer and closer.
“Fuck,” I hissed, rushing forward to grab Daphne’s arm, pulling her with me back to the SUV, opening the back passenger door, and pushing her inside. “Get on the ground and stay there,” I demanded, watching her eyes go round, finally having some fear slip into her, it seemed.
Good.
“Don’t listen while you’re at it,” I said, slamming the door.
All the guys’ gazes cut to me as three bikes came around the back of the building as a car came around the other side.
Trapping us in.
My hand itched to go to the gun at my waist. But I didn’t want to set these guys on-edge if the drop hadn’t just gone sideways and they were just too clueless to see that caging in another crew was not the right move.
The Henchmen were a bit of an eclectic club. Lots of different looks and shit. These guys were all practically mirror images of one another. Long hair, tattoos, scruffy beards, worn jeans and jean jackets with patches instead of leather cuts.
The four men in the car climbed out and approached us. When no one reached for weapons, everyone on my crew relaxed.
The one who must have been the leader, if not the president, moved forward toward me as I stepped toward him.
“Bon,” he said, offering his hand.
“Callow,” I said, shaking it.
Bon waved behind him, making one of the men move forward with a tan tote bag that looked appropriately heavy and stacked.
Bon took it, holding it open for me to look inside, then offering it to me. An act of good faith since he hadn’t even seen the guns yet.
“It’s all there,” he assured me as I handed it off to Perish to check.
“Nothing against you,” I said, as Perish did a quick fan of the stacks then gave me a nod. “You’re just new to us,” I added.
“Yeah, I get it. The product?” he asked as Perish took the cash over toward the front passenger seat.
But he only got halfway there when we all heard it.
Gunshots.
I swear, I was so accustomed to guns now that I heard the swooshing sound of it cutting through the air even after the explosion from the barrel.
My hand went to my gun as my head went on a pivot, checking the other crew, but finding them just as shocked as my crew was.
“Eyes!” I shouted, making Sully scan the area from his better vantage point.
A bullet whizzed past my ear, sinking into the brick building behind me.
“There!” Sully called, pointing through the trees.
In fucking unison, the twins took off into the woods even as there was another hail of bullets.
I watched in horror as Perish’s body jolted as he took one or two or fuck-knew how many bullets before his body fell to the ground.
Sully abandoned his path toward one of Bon’s men who was down, rushing instead toward Perish along with Nave.
As a new horror filled my system.
Gunshots.
By the car.
Where Daphne was hiding in the floorboard of the backseat.
“Fuck,” I hissed, running behind the SUV.
I ripped the passenger door open, finding Daphne crying on the floor with her arms covering her head.
“Get out,” I demanded, tone hard. There was no time for softness.
Daphne kept crying, and I had no choice as the glass behind her cracked as a bullet shot through it, then sliced through my arm, but to grab her and yank her out, pulling her with me toward the front of the car, hiding us behind the engine block. It was the safest spot to hide behind during a shooting.
I still turned her, pulling her back against me as I sat against the car, figuring a bullet would have to get through the car, the engine, and me before it got to her.
“Shh. I need you to be quiet,” I said as she sobbed.
Daphne turned her head, pressing her mouth into her arm to muffle any sounds as I listened to what was going on around us.
All I heard then was heavy breathing and the yells of instructions from Bon’s crew and the curses of, I imagined, the wounded being pulled toward cover.