Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Keep your fucking mouth closed,” he hissed. That sent a surge of hope through me. He wasn’t expecting anyone … Rescuers? If it was Reapers, great. But what if it was some random person, or a kid? My thoughts started spinning … Skid could kill them.
I couldn’t just lie here like a lump, bleeding. I had to do something.
“Who’s out there?” he yelled.
Nothing.
The doorbell rang again.
“Fuck off!” he yelled, turning toward the door. I lunged at his knees from behind, hoping to knock him down. Miraculously, he crashed to the floor, dropping the gun. We wrestled over it briefly as the doorbell started ringing again, over and over. I was nowhere near as strong as Skid, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he shoved me away and got to his feet. My head hit the wall, sending sickening waves of pain down along my spine.
“You are fucking dead if you make a noise, cunt. I’m through with you,” Skid hissed.
He stomped to the door, beyond furious. Then he threw it open and Sophie smashed a wooden chair over his head.
Wow, didn’t see that coming.
I jumped up as his gun fired, adrenaline killing the pain in my leg and skull. The chair crashed into him again. Skid roared and lunged forward. I knew this was it—either we’d win or we’d die. I attacked him from behind, throwing myself on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and jerking him backward with my full weight. He staggered as I bit his ear, worrying at it like a dog.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie grab another chair and go for his legs.
This definitely wasn’t the plan.
No time to worry about that now. Skid screamed as he staggered forward, falling off the porch face-first into the dirt. I rode him down and then Sophie was there, kicking him over and over. He managed to roll to the side, which was a huge mistake, because it gave her a clear shot at his crotch.
She attacked his balls viciously, and his screeching cries of pain filled the air. That didn’t slow her down in the least. Over and over she kicked him, her face twisted with hate. He stopped struggling, and I realized he’d passed out.
I don’t know if it was from pain or if I’d managed to cut off his air. Sophie grabbed the gun, handing it off to me. I pointed it at Skid’s bloodied body, panting.
“Go upstairs and grab the cuffs,” I managed to say. “We’ll get him tied up and then call for help.”
Sophie took off, and I held the gun on him the whole time she was gone, hoping like hell he wouldn’t wake up. I was prepared to shoot—but that didn’t mean I wanted to …
It wasn’t because I was scared to kill another human being. Of course, the thought sickened me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my talk with Liam, and everything he’d said about the truce and the cartel. Maybe he’d been lying to me—I certainly wouldn’t put it past him … But what if he’d been telling the truth? If he was, killing Skid would ruin the peace and sooner or later the cartel would come after the Reapers.
We needed him alive.
Sophie returned with the cuffs. Strangely, she also had a bedsheet and a knife from the kitchen. Together we wrestled Skid’s limp body over to the porch pillar and fastened his hands around it.
I felt the tension in my chest loosen, and I looked up at Sophie and grinned.
“You don’t listen very well when you’re told to run, do you?”
She smirked.
“I guess not,” she said. “I heard the shot and knew you were in trouble. I just couldn’t leave you—it didn’t feel right.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think you might’ve saved my life. Not sure if he would’ve killed me or not.”
She held up the sheet.
“You want me to bandage that leg up for you?” she asked. I looked down at my leg. Sure enough, blood still oozed out, although not much of it at this point. Damned if I hadn’t forgotten about it during the fight. God bless adrenaline.
Everything immediately started hurting again.
“Yeah, might be a good idea,” I said. “Obviously it’s not life threatening, but wow … I can’t believe I got shot.”
She glanced at me and cocked her head.
“Can I ask a crazy question?”
“Sure,” I replied. “I think we’re past being formal with each other at this point.”
“How often does this happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“How often do people get kidnapped, or shot, or whatever? In the club, I mean.”
My eyes widened.
“Um, never?” I said. “I mean, I’m sure men have gotten shot. But not anyone in our chapter, at least not that I know of. Not related to the club, at least. One of the brothers, Bagger, died in Afghanistan last year. But seriously, this is not normal shit.”