Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
[Mike’s on his way,] read Leo’s text message
Zolt couldn’t have been more stressed if lightning had narrowly avoided striking his head.
Mike’s presence meant a shootout. A shootout he couldn’t survive, and neither could Leo, who was too good of a person to think of his own safety, and who’d surely join the fight. And die as well.
He needed to get the fucking Jackals out of here.
“If you need more firepower, I have some leftover cargo. You didn’t want it before”—he hadn’t told Trowley about it, but he counted on the guy taking the lie in stride—”but it’s a couple of assault rifles. Reliable and powerful. Not registered, of course.”
Trowley patted Zolt’s arm. “Now we’re talking. Show me.”
The touch left his skin sore, as if Trowley’s hand had spikes, but Zolt kept his cool. He had to if he was to get out of this alive. What on Earth had possessed him to mention Joe? He never made mistakes so blunt. His way of mending things might put the Smokeys at risk, but the two clubs were on the verge of war anyway. Pushing them under the bus to save his and Leo’s lives was the lesser of two evils.
“Don’t have them here. But since we have a special relationship, I could take you to my storage unit. There’s barely any customers at this time, anyway.”
Trowley didn’t try to outright intimidate Zolt with his proximity anymore. But he might have leaned in, because the smell of his unwashed body, of the sweat clinging to his clothes, the odor of liquor on his breath became sharper and assaulted Zolt’s senses in a moment of tension before Trowley stepped away and waddled toward the musical instruments, toward the antique set of drums where Zolt kept another little stash, ready to be grabbed if the ground under Zolt’s feet caught fire.
He could already feel the heat now.
“You’re pissing your pants, Zolt,” Trowley said, and the way he smirked when he looked back had Zolt’s mouth drying as if the sly gaze was made of fire. “But that’s for the better. You should be afraid if you’re going behind our backs. So you better watch yourself. Straighten up your act or you might end up like him,” he said and pointed at the wall.
Zolt’s mind was too clouded with the worry of what might happen if Mike arrived before he lured the Jackals away, but when his gaze met the glass eyes fitted into the stuffed moose head, his stomach dropped. He let out a laugh anyway.
“I’m a businessman, and there’s no point in rocking a boat that floats, right? Let’s get going so I can return before the suckers start coming in to pawn their shit,” he said and dangled the keys in the air.
He needed to get Trowley away from here. Away from Leo, away from Mike, away from everything that had any meaning in Zolt’s life, because a clash at his shop would turn him into a pile of ash fast. The ground was definitely burning under Zolt now, and he needed to wrap things up before the two rival motorcycle clubs smelled the smoke.
Trowley met his gaze, his reddened eyes sharp as if there were needles in his pupils. “After you.”
The sun licked Zolt’s face when he left his own shop and stepped into the circle of men, who were all armed, and who’d turn him into Swiss cheese if he as much as looked at them the wrong way. But keeping up a brave face was something that had helped him survive since he’d left his family home, so he put on his shades and locked the shop.
He ended up having to go on the bike with one of the Jackals, as if Trowley feared Zolt might run if allowed to take his own vehicle. He led the whole pack of bikers to the storage unit he rented at Colton’s junk yard. This turn of events was a pain in the ass. Now that the Jackals knew of this location, he’d need to search for a new place to stash his shit.
He’d not only been forced to sell all the guns to Trowley, but even pushed into giving the fucker a discount for ‘lateness’. They’d bantered over it as if they were friends, but they both knew threats were on the tip of Trowley’s tongue.
He was relieved that the Jackal Brothers didn’t bother to take him back to the pawn shop, and took a cab home. Mike’s bike was no longer there, but Zolt hoped Leo had kept his mouth shut about the lies Zolt fed Trowley. Were the other Smokeys to find out, this day could still go south for Zolt, no matter how well he gave Leo head in the morning.
There was a single car outside of the shop, but people sometimes had their lunch in their vehicles around here, so Zolt ignored it and walked up to the back door, already expecting an onslaught of accusations from Leo. Just what he needed—more problems in his own home, but there was no point in ignoring a needle stuck under one’s nail, so he unlocked the apartment and entered, heading straight for the living room.