Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
A stocky woman with a severe ponytail and a sergeant badge stops right in front of me. “Summer Hale, I'm putting you under arrest for suspicion of the murder of Aaron Hale, and the murder of Vivian Hale. You have the right to an attorney…”
She says a lot of things, but it becomes a panicked blur in my head. They're arresting me? But…
“Here's the syringe,” says one of the officers as he picks it up with disposable gloves on and drops it into a plastic bag. It's going to have my fingerprints on it. But what about Grayson? Didn't he also touch it?
“It's not my fault!” I scream again, but no one's listening.
31
DEVIL
“Get the fuck out of the way!”
The guards draw their guns, blocking the way into the house unless we want to shoot our way in. “Stand back! I’ll send someone in to check on Miss Hale.”
Preacher snarls, standing at the ready by my side.
The standoff ends as three cop cars come screaming into the drive. They pull up onto the lawn and cops flood out like fucking clowns. Several charge straight into the house without stopping, and the rest turn on us, forming a perimeter that shoves us farther and farther from the front door.
“Hey, what's going on?” I try to get their attention.
“We’re going to need you to move your bikes and get ready to give a statement,” a nervous looking cop shouts.
“Our woman's in there!” snaps Preacher. “Tell us what the fuck's going on.”
“Sorry. This is an ongoing situation.” He holds up a hand indicating for us to back up. “Make some space, please.”
“I'm gonna make some space in your—” I start, but Preacher cuts me off with a look.
“We're not solving anything by starting a fight here. We're fucking outgunned. Play it smart.”
I don’t like it, but I nod. “They wouldn’t hurt Summer.”
“Maybe not physically, but there are a lot of ways to hurt someone.”
Like they wanted to prove his fucking point, Summer, her face tear-stained and her eyes looking panicked around her, is led out of the building by two cops, and she's in fucking handcuffs. She sees us and struggles for a moment to get away. “It wasn't my fault! I swear it wasn't my fault” Her voice cracks with desperation.
“Quiet down,” barks one of the guys leading her and pushes her forward towards the closest squad car. “Hold everyone. This is a crime scene now.”
“What the fuck?”
“Back it up unless you want to join her.” I have to watch as they shove a terrified Summer into the back of the squad car and slam the door shut.
Fuck.
I'm not afraid to fight, but not even me and Preacher together can take on this many cops and come out on top. If we had the rest of the club here, sure. Easy fucking peasy, but we have to be strategic, even if every atom in my whole body is urging me forward with my piece out to take care of fucking business until Summer's back in my hands. If I thought we even had a fucking chance…
“Easy,” Preacher says under his breath. “We’ll get her.”
“I'm not gonna. God, I fucking want to, but we are not letting those fuckers keep her.”
The squad car with Summer pulls out and drives down the long driveway. We both watch it until it passes through the gate and turns onto the road. And then it's fucking gone. An ambulance pulls in without its lights, followed by a special detective unit vehicle. Not a good sign.
One of the cops comes our way, flanked by three more clearly ready to deal with us if we make a move. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you’ll be happy to give us your statements back at the station?”
Preacher smiles, smooth and easy. “Of course, anything to help clear this up. We’ll follow you.”
They don’t quite seem to know what to make of him, but without something to fight against he just nods. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
“We’re not fucking following them, right,” I whisper once they’re not focused on us anymore.
“Fuck no.”
My phone rings. It's Crash. We move to the side so we can talk.
“What the fuck's going on down there? Give me an update.”
Preacher takes the phone. “Summer's been arrested. I don’t know what the fuck happened but I think someone’s dead.”
“The fuck? I'm coming down.”
“We're coming out. Regroup outside the motel we used.”
I take my phone back and slip it into my pocket. “This is Grayson’s work. Unless he’s the dead one, it’s got to be him. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but even if Summer killed someone there is no fucking way she had any other choice.”
“I know. Trust me, I’m not leaving this town while he’s still breathing. But Summer first.”
By the time the cops realize we’re leaving without them, it’s too late. We tear down the road as they come running out just in time to see us disappear. Fifteen minutes later, we're back at the place where I had my first sweet time with Summer.