Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Just go.”
Tears leak down my face as I climb the front porch stairs, my hands shaking so much in fear that I drop the house keys twice before I can get the key into the lock.
“Stay away from the windows,” he insists, making me jump because I didn’t know he was going to follow me inside. “Take this.”
He shoves the leather vest he was wearing into my hands before walking back outside.
Silence fills the air a second after he closes the door behind him.
Chapter 9
Stormy
Fear is a healthy response for people.
Being fearless is a myth. Fearless means you’re either ignorant to consequences or impaired in some way that prevents you from making sound choices.
Many would claim that it’s adrenaline that makes your heart kick up when faced with something that could lead to you getting hurt.
It’s a lot more basic instinct than that, leaning more toward fight or flight, something that is an integral part of survival.
Fear is what’s making my pulse race as Adrian Larrick, president of the Keres MC, and his right-hand man, Brant Jesper, climb off their motorcycles.
Fear is smart with the flash of the handguns tucked away under their cuts. Adrian isn’t a dumb man, and the way they take several steps apart, makes me realize he’s not only good at dirty business, he’s also battle smart. The third guy staying near the bikes makes them ever smarter. Not only am I outnumbered, but there would be no way to pull the gun from my back and shoot all three of them before they put me down.
Knowing this doesn’t stop me from standing a few inches taller as they approach.
As fearful as I may be facing this danger, I’m not a coward. These aren’t exactly the type of men who will care whether I’m afraid of them or not. They will, however, not take kindly to disrespect, not when they’re in a group like this and have something to prove. Insulting Larrick would quite possibly be a deadly mistake.
“Can I help you guys?” I ask when they inch closer.
They stay several feet away, making it impossible to get the jump on them physically if that was the route I decided to take.
I can’t decide if they’re fearful themselves and just not showing it, or if their numbers make them believe they’ll be fine. Worst yet, it’s also possible they don’t see me as a threat, making me believe I did the right thing by pulling off my cut.
Cerberus is well known and I imagine them taking one of us down would be something they’d celebrate later at their clubhouse.
“I’m looking for Mila Clarke,” Adrian says.
“Never heard of anyone by that name,” I say, technically not lying because Clarke is Carlen’s last name not Mila’s.
Adrian hitches his head to the side before speaking. “That’s her car.”
My jaw flexes, but he speaks again before I can formulate a lie that could get me shot right here in the driveway.
“Money is owed,” Larrick says.
“I figure that debt was paid,” I argue.
The Clarkes paid with their lives. If they wanted cash, maybe they shouldn’t have been so quick to pull those triggers.
Larrick shakes his head. “We didn’t collect that debt. Money is owed.”
I swallow. I know the man has no reason to lie. If anything, he’d seem more powerful, more capable of instilling fear into people if they did admit to their deaths, but he doesn’t claim Keres MC was behind the murders. The news doesn’t carry any form of relief. If anything, it makes it worse because now we’re dealing with two different criminal organizations, and one of them is unknown.
“There’s no one here capable of paying,” I say rather than outright telling him it won’t get paid.
If Carlen and Janet were cooking dope, this man isn’t looking only for the revenue he might’ve lost that day in the form of product. He’s going to be looking for the loss of potential revenue due to them no longer being able to work for him. The cycle will continue, and he’ll never be satisfied. This is the shit that gets people in so deep that they can’t dig their way out.
“Ten grand is due,” Larrick says.
“Fifteen next month,” Jesper adds. “And every month after.”
“That bitch better figure something out,” Larrick says. “She has until the thirty-first.”
Jesper sneers at me, making me wonder if he’s on his best behavior because his prez is here. He’s not someone I would want to meet in a dark alley any day of the week.
I stand in the same spot in the middle of the driveway as they climb back on their bikes. So sure he’s gotten his point across, Larrick doesn’t even look back in my direction before cranking his motorcycle and driving off. The other two fall into line behind him, a smile on Jesper’s lips as if he’s hoping they don’t get paid so he can mete out the punishment.