Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
The man winces. “Does that seem like an intelligent thing to say?”
Behind me, I hear another man enter. I turn. My stomach sinks. This is bad. Anger thunders through me. I feel more rage at seeing Molly in this grimy place than knowing my son is trapped here. I have a protective desire. I’ll do anything to keep her safe, anything.
The man has something pressed against her back, maybe a knife or a gun. I can’t see. His hand’s out of view. She looks so beautiful in her dress, the hugging at the hips highlighting her shape. Her makeup is so subtle and gorgeous. She doesn’t deserve this.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice torn with fear as she looks at me. “He said he’d shoot me if I didn’t—”
“Quiet, bitch,” the man grunts, looking at me with a vicious sense of victory. He’s a wiry bastard, wearing a wife beater and showing off skinny arms plastered in tattoos.
I change my position so I can keep all of them in view. Far too many for me to fight. I need to think.
“Or I’ll make you be quiet.”
When the man shoves my woman, and Molly makes a pained groaning noise, I lose the ability to think. What I do next is very stupid. It could get everybody killed, but I’m reacting now in fight mode, senses heightened. I’m not thinking.
It’s not even like I do it. It’s my instincts surging up through me. Even with my son trapped in that bathroom, my only mission is to keep Molly safe, to get that creep away from her. I can’t let anybody hurt her. Ever.
CHAPTER NINE
Molly
I’ve screwed up badly, but I panicked when I saw the lean man striding across the street. I fumbled with the keys in the ignition. I messed up when I tried to slide into the driver’s seat. I should’ve already been in the driver’s seat. Duke’s expression became savage when he saw me.
And now…
It all happens so fast. I register it slowly. Duke leaps across the bar toward the man and me. Before the man can react—it must be less than a second—Duke kicks him in the stomach. Then he’s got his arms wrapped around him, one hand on his wrist. The man screams when Duke snaps his wrist. The gun drops to the floor.
My mouth is dry. My heart hurts, but my man needs my help. This could be it, the end for us. The end, full stop.
I lean down and pick up the gun. My hands are shaking. The world is turning blurry as sweat slides into my eyes. I manage to raise it and point it at the men at the table.
They’re all on their feet but stop when they see me with the gun. Then, gently, Duke takes the gun from my hand. The man he kicked is on the floor, his hand bent at an unnatural angle, wincing as he tries to sit up. Duke aims the gun with purpose, panning it over the men.
“Let him out. Now. We’re leaving.”
“What about the money?” The man who speaks has a flat, broken nose. I realize he’s got a gun in his hand, but I must’ve stopped him from aiming it when I quickly pointed mine at them.
“We’re leaving now,” Duke roars, stepping forward. “Or I’ll shoot you in the fucking head.”
“You’re a fighter, my friend, not a killer.”
“You’re wrong,” he snarls. “I beat my own father to death with my bare hands. What do you think I’d do to you? Last chance.”
I gasp, wondering if I heard him right or if the violence is giving me crazy hallucinations. He killed his own dad?
“Fine, fine,” the man says, sighing like this is all beneath him. “Let the kid out.”
One of the men opens the door to the bathroom. A moment later, Ryan walks out, though walks isn’t exactly correct. He weaves from side to side, clearly completely drunk. I’ve seen him like this many times. It was always when he got the most vicious.
“Come here,” Duke snaps angrily.
Ryan looks around the room, eyes narrowed. When he finally sees me, he pauses, shaking his head as if I’m a phantom of his imagination and he wants to get rid of me.
“We’re leaving,” Duke snarls when Ryan is standing at his side, the other side to me, meaning we don’t have to stare at each other. There’s too much happening now for him to give a damn I’m here, but what about when the chaos stops?
“If you want to start a gunfight, you’ll win,” Duke says. “I’m sure more of you are armed, but a few will die. Is it worth it, fellas? To die here?”
“What sort of man beats his own father to death?” the man with the broken nose snaps. “What sort of coward does a thing like that?”