Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“The cops are coming soon. Get the fuck out of here,” growls Bear in the back. Might be more than two barrels pointing at him now, but I'm not going to fucking turn around to check while I'm facing one of my own.
Finally, Dario nods, briefly as he starts to back down the stairs. “I don't know what you shits have done to Alessa, but I swear to fucking God that if she's hurt, I'm going to murder all of you motherfuckers. No one hurts what's mine. It’s not even murder, it’s extermination.”
“Keep walking,” I say simply.
He spits in our direction, but keeps backing up with his pistol trained at us. A black Ferrari is parked at the curb, obviously his, and as soon as he gets to it, he dodges behind it to use it for cover. Is he going to play the odds and start shooting? I step backwards to get the doorframe between me and him. The others shift to let me by.
But then the car whoops as he unlocks it, and the driver's door rises. He slips in and the engine roars before he tears ass down the road like he expects us to shoot after him. Fancy-ass car, but you don't get the wind in your fucking hair with that thing. He can keep it.
“We have to get the fuck out of here,” yells Viking as he slams the door shut. “Cops are going to be here soon, and even if they're not, that motherfucker's bound to come back with reinforcements. I fucking knew letting her stay here was a mistake. Where's Izzy?”
“In her crib in the bedroom,” says Bear. “Didn't want her exposed if bullets started flying.”
“Taking her to the club?” I ask. It's for the best. Keep the baby safe, keep her mother safe. Maybe dealing with her on our turf will even the tables a little.
“Of course we're taking her to the fucking club.” Viking looks around. “Bear, get Izzy. Snark, call Alessa and tell her to get her ass here now. Then call Beatrice and tell her to stay clear. She can get a hotel room or something. Just keep her out of the way. Hawk, grab anything that looks important and toss it in the van while we keep an eye open. If we don't move fast, this is going to be a complete shitshow—if it isn't fucking already. Now, move!”
What a goddamn clusterfuck.
14
ALESSA
You Shook Me All Night Long blares out of my phone right in the middle of class, and everyone turns to look at me.
Freaking Snark.
I should’ve known better than to trust him when he asked for my phone to put all their numbers in. Either way, I should've set my phone on silent, but people call me so rarely. Dad knows my schedule, and anyone else just texts or DMs. Why call when you can send a message? We're not savages.
But the number that pops up is Viking. Snark even made Viking's custom patch on the back of his cut his contact picture. A little guy with a horned helmet. But why? Oh my God, is something wrong with Izzy?
“Sorry,” I yell at the professor, then rush up the steps out of the auditorium with my still open bag slung over my shoulder and my phone still blasting AC/DC. As soon as the door shuts behind me, I answer.
“Alessa.” Viking's voice is drawn as tight as a bow. He's stressed. “You're coming home now. We have to get you out of here.”
“What? I told you I wasn't—”
“Dario found you.”
My heart stops. What? “Did you just say—”
“Yes. Now get your ass back here. We're getting you to safety before the cops come.”
“Cops? What the hell is going on?”
“I'll explain on the way. There's no time. How soon can you be here?”
“I'll jump in the car. Ten minutes. Izzy?”
“She's fine.”
“There’s a go bag for the two of us under my bed.”
“Smart,” he grunts. “Make it eight.” The line goes dead.
I’ve been planning for it since I decided to have her, but somehow I never thought I’d really have to run. And I really hadn't expected my life to go absolutely batshit insane so soon, not after so long. Crap, crap, triple crap. But seriously? Cops? Do I even want to know what happened?
Charging down the hallway and plowing through other students like a crazed rhino, I throw out the occasional “Sorry!” and hope that no one recognizes me as I whirr by. Why is everyone moving so slow?
The parking lot is way too big across, and why did I park at the other end? The seconds tick by like hours before I fling the door open and throw myself in. Moments later, I'm jetting across campus and hoping the campus police don't see me blasting through a stop sign or two.