Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
“Dani, we followed her to the house. That son of a bitch is beating her! Right this second!”
“She’s right.” Breaker trotted into the room. Likely, Lemon had jumped off the bike before it had fully stopped and gotten a head start on Breaker who had to shut off and park his bike. “I didn’t want to leave her, but I had Lemon…” Breaker looked like he’d been gutted. Torn between saving one young woman or putting the sister of Wylde’s old lady in danger, he’d gone the conservative route. Which Lemon, no doubt, would give him hell about later. The fact that she wasn’t now told me -- and everyone else -- how upset she really was.
“Why didn’t you call us?” I snapped my question with a bit more force than I should, but I had a sick feeling in my gut. I was already on my feet and heading toward the door when Brick grabbed my arm and halted me. “We could have been on the way there already.”
“You’ve been out there, Mars. There’s no service. Once I started, I was just trying to get Lemon back to the clubhouse.”
Brick picked up a radio and tossed it to me, barking out orders on the way out the door. “Mars, Breaker, Rage, and Stitches. I want the four of you on the way to that fucker’s place double time. Clutch, need you in the Expedition with Stitches. You do not leave Scarlet there under any circumstances. If you see that little shit Hammer, end him.”
Me and Breaker snagged earwigs and external mics for our radios from one of the shelves in Wylde’s office. It would make it easier to communicate with the rest of the club as necessary. Then we hurried to our bikes. Rage met us in the garage and the three of us hurried off, not waiting on Clutch and Stitches in the cage.
I tried to concentrate on the road while anger and stress beat at me. I’d been on more missions like this than I could count. Not all of them had ended well. Images of broken and dead bodies of women and girls flashed through my head, and I needed to rage at the injustice. But I didn’t have that luxury at the moment. I had to get to Scarlet.
She was a lovely young woman, and so fragile-looking. I’d kind of been infatuated with her since I’d first laid eyes on her but had tried not to think about it. I know Lemon and Apple adored her and, though I’d only seen her once, there was something about her that snagged my attention. I knew there was something going on with that son of a bitch Hammer, but how anyone could willingly hurt that young woman was beyond me.
“Fuck!” I screamed once as I sped down the twisting, winding road. The house Hammer had rented was only ten minutes from the clubhouse, but it seemed to take an eternity. More than once I thought I was going to lose traction. Had there been gravel or dirt from logging, I was sure I’d have laid the fucking bike down.
When I pulled up in front of the little house, I got the eeriest feeling. It was like déjà vu. Like I’d been here before…
I shivered. No. This would not be like before. Scarlet would be alive. Maybe beaten and broken, but alive.
I jumped from my bike, not bothering to make sure I got the kickstand secured. As I sprinted to the house, I heard it crash to the ground but couldn’t make myself care. The only thing I had to do was get inside and get Scarlet out. She would be alive.
She would be alive, Goddamnit!
Kicking in the door, I was greeted with silence. It was the kind of silence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. There were a few pieces of furniture turned over, but I couldn’t see much else in the dimly lit interior. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
I heard my brothers pull up in front of the house, the roar of the pipes on their bikes loud. The light was dimming in the evening. There was barely enough to see inside the house. It took precious seconds to search the interior. There had obviously been an altercation of some kind. There was blood in what I could only assume was Scarlet’s room, judging by the underwear strewn over the floor. Not much, but splatters and a few drops here and there. Other than that, there was precious little in the room that said it was hers. No pictures. No trinkets. There didn’t seem to be anything of Hammer either.
There were only a few articles of clothing in the closet. One pair of shoes. Her backpack. But Scarlet wasn’t there.