Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“Cradle to the Grave” by Five Finger Death Punch blasts in my earbuds as I take the exit on the highway and downshift, coming up to the gates at the house of Lords.
Pulling up to the building, I see Adam exiting the front double doors. He storms down the steps and jumps into his G-wagon. As I see his reverse lights illuminate the night, I make a split decision to follow him.
He’s been in a mood. I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but he’s been pissy to not only Ashtyn but all of us since we had our meeting with the detective. It’s not like him. I love my brothers, but I’ve always been the closest to Adam. For some reason, he’s pulling away from me.
I stay several cars back as he weaves in and out of traffic. He takes an exit, and I can tell when he spots me because he pulls into a vacant parking lot.
Shutting off my bike, I turn off the music and wait as he shoves his door open. “What the fuck, Haidyn?” he barks. “You following me?” He storms over to me.
“If you’d answer your phone, I wouldn’t have to.” I’ve been calling him all day, and he’s been MIA. Even Kashton brought it up today to Saint and me, and I pretended not to notice.
“I’ve been busy,” he snaps defensively.
“Is this because you haven’t had your dick sucked?” I joke. “Because we only have a week left. Then you can fuck whoever you want.”
Adam’s jaw clenches, and his hands fist to keep from punching me. He’s been this way since we met with Lincoln at the house of Lords a couple of weeks ago.
They think a Lord—Adam—is involved, but we all know he’s innocent. They can suspect him all they want. They don’t have any evidence that he did it.
“I have somewhere to be, Haidyn. Don’t follow me,” he orders, walking back to his SUV.
“What do you think this means for Ashtyn?” I call out.
He stops and turns to face me but doesn’t speak.
I cross my arms over my chest. “They think you’re involved. You think they’ll try to use her to get you to confess?” It’s a reasonable thought. We, as Lords, take whatever weakness we can find when we want something from someone. Why wouldn’t the law do the same? Somehow and for some reason, this detective knows about us. How he found out, he won’t say. But the fact that he did isn’t good by any means. And the fact that Lincoln allowed him to enter the house of Lords is throwing up red flags. The detective already knows too much about us.
Adam drops his head to stare at the parking lot, rubbing the back of his neck. It tells me he’s thought of it too. I think Saint is oblivious to what’s going on. All he cares about is finally getting his girl. The last thing he’s going to think about is losing her when he’s so close to having her.
“It’s crossed my mind,” Adam admits, his eyes meeting mine once again.
“And what are you going to do about it?” I inquire.
“Why do you think I’m pushing her away?” he questions. “I need her…and you”—he points at me—“to stay the fuck back. Once this is all settled, things will go back to the way they were.” With that, he jumps back in his G-wagon and squeals his tires as he leaves the parking lot.
I stay where I’m at, watching his taillights get back onto the highway. I’ll give him some time. But if things don’t change soon, I’ll step in and help him out. We stick together. That’s the point of the Spade brothers. We take care of our own.
It’s just another day, but then again, it’s not like the others. Ashtyn is here. Saint found her thanks to fucking Whitney. I’ve pretended to hate Ash for the past four years because it was the best defense I could come up with.
It’s only a matter of time before my brothers find out I lied to them. But I’m not going to say anything. Ash will have to rat me out.
I stand in the room on the seventh floor, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows while the rain comes down. Charlotte sits behind me. I can hear her shuffling around, getting her stuff together for another visit. This will make her third. The woman is persistent, I’ll give her that. At this point, I just show up to make her squirm. Seeing her is the highlight of my day.
“Talk to me, Haidyn,” she says.
I remain facing away from her with my hands shoved into the pockets of my jeans.
“What are you thinking?” Charlotte goes on.
I snort and turn to face her. She looks so prim and proper sitting in the high-back chair. I decide to walk over to her, getting closer than I usually do, and she sits up straight, crossing her legs as if that’ll keep me from getting between them.