Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I look around for Hector, but I don’t see him, just as a newly patched Iron King member comes at me with his fists leading the charge.
“You’re dead, motherfucker,” he hisses.
I laugh and easily duck his first few fists before one catches me in a glancing blow to my jaw.
“Not yet, junior.” I keep a smile on my face as I land blow after blow until the guy is down on his knees, gasping and wheezing. “You’re closer to death than me.” I wipe the blood from my lip and kick his chest until he’s flat on his back, dark eyes glaring up at me angrily.
“Not quite.” He pulls a gun from his waistband and aims it up at me. At that moment, I know I don’t have enough time to reach for my own weapon before he squeezes the trigger.
“Shouldn’t bring fists to a gunfight,” he says, grinning. The kid levels the gun right at my chest, and a shot rings out, but I don’t close my eyes. If this is how I’m gonna go out, I refuse to cower like a bitch.
I wait for the pain, for the warmth of blood spreading across my chest, the slow fading of the light as death grips me. But it doesn’t come. When I look down at the kid, the right side of his head is split open from an exit wound. I look off in the distance and send up a silent thanks for Jordi because the prospect just saved my life.
“Pee Wee!” One of the old-timers in Hector’s crew runs toward the kid lying at my feet, screaming like a fucking banshee before he notices me standing there. This time I’m ready, gun in my hand, finger resting gently on the trigger. Jordi won’t have to save me twice.
“He was just a fucking kid.”
I shrug. “Then you shouldn’t have put him up to a man’s business.”
“You fucking Reckless Souls, think you can just have anything you want, don’t you?”
I roll my eyes. “Save the goddamn lecture, man. You all want to be us so bad you’re willing to kill and steal to get it.”
His lips curl into a devilish grin. “Damn fucking straight. You assholes are going to pay, not just for Pee Wee but for everything.”
“For being better than you? Doubtful.”
He wears a knowing smile and pushes up to his feet, hands bunching and flexing as if he’s trying to keep his cool. “You will pay. One way or another, every last one of you motherfuckers will pay.”
“Yeah, you and what army?” Iron Kings aren’t the kind of MC to do what needs to be done. They won’t do hard work. Instead, they try to profit from the hard work of others. “Look around, old man. Your army is fucked.”
Two Iron Kings lie lifeless on the ground and two more writhe in pain from their non-fatal wounds.
“Temporary setback,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “Soon enough, you motherfuckers will get exactly what’s comin’ to ya. And I won’t be shedding any tears when I piss on the embers of what used to be Reckless Souls territory, scattered on the wind.”
I laugh. “Pretty poetic for a dumb fuck biker working for the biggest idiot in southern California.”
The old-timer takes a step forward, and I aim my gun at his face, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Shoot me all you want, but it ain’t gonna stop what’s gonna happen to your club.”
In the distance, I hear tires squeal, a sign that the guys cleared the truck of just enough to make it hurt, which means it’s time for me to go, except I can’t. Not yet.
“Tell me what’s going to happen. You know you want to.”
Guys like this couldn’t help but brag because other people’s deeds were all they had in life.
“If I’m gonna be dead, what difference does it make?”
He smiles back and shakes his head. “In a rush to die?”
I shrug. “Maybe I am.” He doesn’t know it yet, but this old fuck won’t be alive to see the sun rise over Angel Harbor in the morning.
“So, tell me. I already know you’re planning something at the harbor.”
“Then you already know too much.” He reaches for his gun, and I fire one shot straight through his bicep. “Ow, fuck! You fucking shot me.”
“Nothing gets by that thick skull of yours, does it?”
My feet carry me forward until we’re less than a foot apart, and the barrel of my gun presses against that fresh wound.
“I’ll ask you again, old man. What the fuck are you planning.”
He shakes his head even as I press harder, sending him to his knees. “Not planning. It’s already planned. Nothing to be done to stop it now.”
“What the fuck is it?” The barrel of my gun digs so deep I hear the clink of metal against bone.