Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Every time I even looked at it he’d move his hand to cover it, so I left his words to him, keeping my nose out of it.
If he didn’t want to tell me, I’d respect him and not push.
Now I could just wait until July asked him, then ask her.
A smile broke out over my face, even at Dean’s intimidating stare down.
“I’m going to issue a warrant for someone’s arrest,” I started walking.
Dean followed me, and I looked over at him.
“You fuck this up and I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t fuck this up,” I lied.
***
An hour later, I was watching my almost brother-in-law beat the shit out of Barrett and Jensen with his bare hands.
He hit the man in the face with a power punch and then followed it right up with a second shot and then a third.
“This is going to raise some questions,” Griffin said, his tone bored.
He wasn’t bored.
None of us were.
We’d just been through months of pure hell. We deserved this and so much more.
That was what The Uncertain Saints were about, and although Dean wasn’t an actual member of our small band of misfit bikers, he was definitely fucked up enough to be one.
“You ask him yet?” Peek asked, his arms crossed over his chest, too.
“Nope,” I said. “I’ll ask him once we get July out of the hospital.”
“You think he’ll say yes?” he asked.
I nodded my head.
“Yeah, I think he’ll say yes.”
Without another word, I turned to Dean and said, “Visiting hours open up in an hour. If you leave now, you’ll make it in time to take a shower and head there.”
Dean stopped instantly, looked at his watch and nodded.
“Thanks.”
Without another word, he left, leaving both men, heads hanging, to us.
“You ready for me now, Barrett?” I asked him.
Barrett lifted his eyes.
“Good enough,” I said, then roundhouse kicked him in the face.
***
“Have a good one,” the cop that booked three of the newest prisoners said.
I gave him a nod and left the building, smiling as I went.
Two down, one to go.
Barrett, Jensen, and his brother were all under heavy guard and would be for a long time to come.
It was obvious that neither Barrett, Jensen nor his brother were the masterminds behind this operation, so in order to get that information out of them, the prosecutor offered the brothers a plea deal. It wasn’t great news, but if we could get what we needed out of them to bring down this entire operation, it would be worth it.
In the meantime, I had an operation to infiltrate.
Chapter 22
Some days I stay inside because it feels too peoplely out there.
-July’s secret thoughts
July
Everything hurt. My hand most of all. Why did it feel like it was burning?
I groaned and tried to shake it, but that only managed to intensify the burning sensation a thousandfold.
I moaned and pried my eyes open, the light above my bed assaulting my eyes.
Since when did I have a bed?
I turned my face to take in the bed, and my breath stalled in my chest when I saw Dean—at least I thought it was Dean—at my bedside. The man now sported a very sexy, full beard.
He was sleeping so soundly that he was snoring, and I couldn’t help it, I had to wake him up.
“Dean!” I yelled.
Well, tried to. It came out sounding more husky than I’d intended, but it had the same effect.
He jolted, standing up and looking around almost frantically.
“You look like a caveman,” I informed him.
His eyes, wild and worried, came to me.
“Fuck me,” he breathed, dropping down into the seat. “I’ve fucking missed the hell out of you.”
I smiled at him.
“If I never see another cow again in my life, it’ll be too soon.”
He blinked.
“What?” he asked.
I decided to wait to tell him about the cows at a later date, instead focusing on the fact that I had no hand.
“I have no hand,” I enlightened him.
He blinked, all traces of sleep gone from his eyes, and then nodded. “You don’t.”
“What about my feet?” I asked “I was afraid they’d have to take my feet, too,”
His eyes went scary, and I lifted my arm so I could touch his face.
He grabbed my arm before I could get much further than a couple of inches off the bed, and then untangled the IV lines from around me before helping me bring my hand up to his face.
“Your foot will need some physical therapy,” he admitted. “It went through two surgeries, but they believe it’s going to be okay.”
Relief poured through me.
Confusion and pieces of memories churned inside of my hazy brain, but, I was happy.
Happy that I was here to tell Dean in the first place.
“Okay,” I said, closing my eyes. “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”
Something important.
But my eyes were so heavy, and now that I knew Dean was here, I felt safe for the first time in a long time.