Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“I’m sure it seemed worse than it actually was, lil’ bit. You let us take care of this.” I stood there with my mouth open. Not because I couldn’t believe he’d basically said the equivalent of “Don’t worry your pretty little head. Let the big men take care of this,” but because I knew there was no point arguing. And I wanted him off that fucking bike. As I knew he would, Falcon dismounted the bike and came around to lead me back to the Bronco. The second I was between him and the Harley, I jumped on it, kicked Falcon in the balls when he tried to grab the handlebars, started the big hog, put it in gear, and took the fuck off.
Fuck a buncha bullshit pissing matches. I was going to get Rocket. He’d come for me; I’d damned well come for him. And Goddamnit, he better not be dead. Or I’d kill him.
I approached the house, not bothering to slow down or quiet the engine. I wanted them to fucking know I was coming for them. Instead of slowing down, I aimed the front tire for the door and hit the gas. Right before it hit, I jumped, rolling to the ground as the bike broke through the door.
There were shouts and a grunt. I hoped Rocket hadn’t been too close. I’d left him on the other side of the small house, which is why I chose this side door instead of the front door. OK, so I hadn’t really thought about it. You know. Until now.
The second I was on my feet I ran through the splintered door. The front tire was on one guy’s chest, the bike on its side. He heaved and shoved it off him, but there was a trickle of blood coming from his mouth and a bloody bubble coming from his nose. My guess was he had some internal damage. But I’m not a doctor or anything. Just… duh!
I heard Rocket yell from the other side of the house and breathed a sigh of relief strong enough to make my knees weak. Why it mattered that he was OK I wasn’t about to examine too closely. He was an asshole in the extreme and a dumbass asshole to boot. The way I saw it, it was partly Rocket’s fault Scarlet had been hurt so badly. He’d somehow overlooked the fact his vice president was a pussy too scared for his big secret to come out to protect his daughter from a fucking monster. I got that Scarlet said she wanted to go with Hammer initially, but I wasn’t ready to let Rocket completely off the hook. He knew what Claw had been capable of, and he knew Hammer had every reason to want to hurt Claw any way he could. So by allowing Claw to approve Hammer taking his daughter away from the protection of Grim Road, Rocket was as guilty as Claw was.
When he gave another shout, I grabbed the big knife on the kitchen table, laying it against my forearm as I stalked through the living room where three men were shaking off the initial shock of the motorcycle bursting through their side door. It looked like they’d been in the process of working Rocket over. His face was a bit worse for wear, but he was on his feet and giving back better than he was getting.
I fought my way past one of the guys, making a deep slice across the back of his thigh as I went. He went down with a sharp yelp and I stopped to stab him three times in quick succession in the neck. With that initial kill, blood arcing over my shirt, the full impact of what I’d just done hit me. I didn’t care that I’d been the one to kill that asshole. Anyone who could kidnap a child deserved whatever he got. What horrified me the most was that I’d done it in Grim Road’s territory. Anything I did they couldn’t clean up could and probably would fall back on them.
I met Rocket’s gaze as he snagged a knife from the boot of the guy next to him and made a swipe up, catching the guy’s femoral artery if the blood instantly soaking his jeans was any indication. Then he stabbed him twice in the neck before doing much the same to the last guy.
We stared at each other for several long moments. I had this overwhelming urge to run straight into Rocket’s arms and take from him what I’d dreamed about taking for months now. I wanted to with everything in my being. But I was not about to make the first move. He could damn well chase after me because I absolutely would not make a move on him first. That was assuming I didn’t kill him. Which was a pretty big Goddamned “if”.