Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“I’m understanding you want to go after the VP of Ghosts of Chaos,” Johnston began, leaning back in his chair to look at me. He steepled his fingers together in front of him. I nodded once in response. He reached up and scratched at the stubble along his jaw, a scowl twisting his features for a moment before they relaxed again. “And you want Blayke and Dom to put their lives on the line so you can fulfill your need for revenge?”
I shrugged. “That about sums it up,” I told him. No point in lying about that. That son of a bitch needed to fucking pay. But it wasn’t just me who wanted him gone. Tango had a need to see that entire club wiped out.
“Where’s your proof that this asshole raped your girl and beat the fuck out of her?” Johnston demanded to know. I barely resisted flinching at how callously he spoke about what happened to Sophia, and I literally had to bite my tongue to keep from challenging him. “Not a goddamn thing is happening until I hear this shit for myself.”
Tango clenched his jaw when I looked at him. Snarling, he shoved back from the table and looked at Johnston. “The boy is fragile. I don’t give two fucks how powerful you are or who you are, Johnston, you will treat him with care and be gentle with him, do I make myself clear?”
Everyone held their breaths. Tango was challenging the mother charter president—the fucking king. One of the most feared men in the United States.
Jesus Christ, this could turn ugly quick.
Johnston quickly stood up. Scorpion lurched forward at the same time I did, putting an arm across Johnston’s chest. I pressed my palm to Tango’s sternum, forcing him back a step. Johnston’s nostrils flared, rage twisting his features. “Watch who the fuck you’re talking to, Tango, or I will burn that tattoo off your back and knock you back down to prospect level, do you understand me?”
Tango snarled at the mother charter president, still not backing down. “I mean it, Johnston. He’s been through a lot of shit, more than any of us standing in this room put together.”
Johnston clenched his fists, somehow keeping his cool, which was honestly a damn miracle. “Bring me the fucking kid,” Johnston snapped.
Tango leaned forward, knocking my hand off my chest. “Not until you give me your word, Johnston.”
Johnston stared at him for a moment. Everyone was silent, waiting to see what the fuck was going to happen. No one said shit like this to Johnston. He was a dangerous man, and no one, not even Alejandro Garcia, one of the most feared men in the Western hemisphere, dared to cross him. But Tango was.
All for the boy he’d rescued.
The mother charter president nodded once. “You’ve got my word,” Johnston finally told him.
Tango nodded once in return and left the room. Johnston sat back in his seat like nothing had happened, and I took my leaning position back against the wall next to Blayke. Amusement lingered in his eyes, and I snorted. “Fucker,” I muttered.
He chuckled. “Not often a man gets bent out of shape like that over someone.”
I elbowed him in the ribs, biting back my own laughter now that the situation was resolved and tensions weren’t riding high. I for sure thought Johnston was contemplating putting a bullet between Tango’s eyes at one point, but I also had a feeling Johnston understood where Tango was coming from. Johnston had tamed a little since he’d settled down with Aaliyah, but he was still a ruthless, cold-blooded asshole at his core. And it didn’t take much to bring that man forward.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and Tango carried the boy in. Fucking carried him. Gabriel was clinging to him, his arms and legs wrapped around Tango, and his body was shaking so badly, his teeth were chattering as his eyes landed on all of us.
“Shh, baby boy,” Tango soothed, settling into his chair at the table and leaving the boy wrapped around him. His fingers slid into Gabriel’s hair as he gently began to rock him. “It’s okay. No one here will hurt you. I promise. I’ll rip their fucking throats out if they try.”
Johnston, miraculously, stayed silent, his eyes glued to the small figure Tango was holding like he was the most precious, rare gem in the entire world. The last of its kind.
“Fuck,” Johnston whispered, staring in horror at Gabriel. He stood up and rounded the table. “Goddamn, kiddo, they did a number on you, didn’t they?”
Gabriel looked up, his eyes widening when they landed on Johnston. “J-Johnston?” he stuttered.
Johnston smiled, which was a goddamn rare sight. I roughly cleared my throat so I wouldn’t choke on my own saliva. “Yeah, kiddo. It’s me. How are you holding up?”