Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
So, when she confronted me after I didn’t return home, she left the following day giving me strict orders to sort my shit out before she’d return. I laughed and slammed the door behind her as she walked out.
This place isn’t meant to be my home anymore. I left, but now I’m back—back where I don’t want to be.
Cane sits in a seat at one of my clubs, smoking, watching me. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to say something. “You’re losing your fucking mind, Ryken. When was the last time you slept?”
My hands brush through my hair as I pace back and forth. “When she left. I need her back.”
He rolls his eyes at my words. “No. You need to go back to your girlfriend. Or have you forgotten about her, and your damn baby?”
Flipping him the bird, he laughs at me. “Fuck off! Just ask around like I told you to.”
Cane nods his head as we look out over the crowd which has already accumulated in the club. “They’ve come in a few times this week asking for you.” He’s now standing next to me.
I notice Quinn standing at the door which leads to the stairs to come up here. He’s staying put. He’s become someone I trust, very much. That happens I guess when you have no one else left in this world. Livia doesn’t seem to understand. Even now, when I told her about what happened to her cousin. She doesn’t care about Saskia, all she wanted to know was when I’m coming home. Then her heels clicked as she left, not even asking if Saskia was alive or dead. She honestly doesn’t give a fuck.
“Who?” My hands shake as I run them through my hair again. I have to cut it, it’s gotten too long and falls into my face pissing me off.
“Spikes,” he replies.
They’re the MC that moves the girls we collect. They’re the ones who took Saskia. I’ve been avoiding them because I’m afraid I’ll kill one, and that can’t happen. Because restitution for killing another one is not something I want to contemplate. The atonement for the last has been far too high. I won’t do it, but fuck if I don’t want to, and it’s taking everything in me to not react and reciprocate. “He better hope I don’t see him anytime soon. I’ll fucking slice him open from cock to lips.”
Cane smiles, shaking his head at my words. “Fuck.”
Turning, I see Quinn has a Spikes member up against the wall, his hands on his throat and a gun to his stomach.
“Call your watchdog off.” I shake my head, smiling. “Do you want the police called? Call. Him. The. Fuck. Off,” Cane says.
Rolling my eyes, I walk out of the office to where Quinn’s currently whispering all the sweet things he’d like to do to this dude if we didn’t have an audience. The guy doesn’t say a word, just looks at him with wide eyes. He knows better. Walking up behind Quinn, I tap him on the shoulder and he relaxes his stance straight away, but he doesn’t remove his weapon, only his hand from around the dude’s throat.
“He wants to deliver a message to you,” is all Quinn says while stepping back, but his hand stays on his gun, and the guy’s eyes watch, knowing exactly that he’ll kill him with a simple head nod from me. Laughing at his words, I shake my head. The music is loud here, so I can’t hear him properly unless I step closer, and that sure as shit isn’t going to happen. Turning and walking into the cooler room, they follow, and the door shuts, locking us in the cold room.
Is it possible to sweat in a cold room? Because he is.
His motorcycle patch is displayed proudly on his chest. He doesn’t look up, as he reaches for something in his pocket. It’s a cell phone, but Quinn has his gun pointed at him anyway.
“You need to look.” He’s still sweating profusely, as I look down at his cell.
That’s when I see her. Saskia. She’s dressed in white. She looks skinnier. Gaunt. Almost emaciated. Her cheeks are sunken right back in her face, and her eyes are downcast. Antonio’s sitting next to her with his hand around her shoulders, keeping her in place. My hand snatches out to the cell phone, taking it in my grasp.
“How the fuck did you get this?” My voice is raised, and my words are lethal. It’s taking everything in me to not step forward and open this guy up to get all the information out of his head.
“Antonio sent it. Michael thought it would be best that you saw it.”
“Of course, he did. He wants to push my damn buttons.” I drop the cell, so it smashes on the cement floor.