Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Sitting in the background on a lawn chair that looks like it might buckle under his weight, Hero lets out an amused snort. Wild Child's eyes narrow and his jaw tightens. He gives Hero the finger, but he doesn't take his gaze off me.
Crap.
I should know better than to tease the bikers.
He's dead serious for a second or two more before he loses it. With a serious guffaw that sits deep in his belly, he puts a hand on my thigh and squeezes, as if now we're best friends or something. Or more. “Nice. You and me, we're going to have a good time. Real good.”
“Give it a fucking rest,” snaps King, then puts his phone down on the table. “We're through. I've turned on speaker.”
“Hello? Who's this?” Dad’s voice clears any sexy fantasies right out of my head. Doesn't matter how hot the guys are when the most hated person in my world is on the line. Hearing him doesn't exactly fill me with relief. I know him too well.
“Mayor Hawthorne? We have your daughter,” says King.
With a last sexy smirk and a finger point with attitude, Wild Child stands to go listen.
“Who the hell are you, and how the hell did you get onto my property?” Dad yells so the speaker crackles. “I'll have all of you fucks arrested, then executed. When we track down your number—”
“Shut the fuck up so I can give you my terms.” King paces as he talks, keeping close to the phone.
“No one tells me to shut the fuck up. Now put Emily on the line.”
King nods and waves for me to come closer. “Come on, little girl. Talk to daddy. Show him this is real.”
When I stand, my legs shake so hard I can barely walk. What happened to the confidence I showed against Wild Child? “Dad?”
“Jesus Christ, Emily. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Like it's my fault that I'm kidnapped. I can only imagine his reaction when I finally get home, and I hate that even after all these years, he can make the corners of my eyes sting. I know that he could hardly give two shits about me, but my emotions refuse to remember. He's still my dad.
“They came and took me in the middle of the night. Three of them, and they drugged me. I'm not sure how I was supposed to do anything different.”
He sighs deeply, and I recognize his display of extreme disappointment immediately. He's shown it to me plenty of times. “Fine. You've got her. Now give her the fuck back. No one steals from me.” Like I'm just a thing.
Still, better his thing than the bikers' prisoner. Wild child catches my eye, then winks.
Well, probably better his thing than a prisoner, anyway.
King's expression is hard and unflinching, his strong jaw tightening. His dark brows knit over his bottomless pools. “We're the ones giving the orders. If you value your daughter's life, you'll shut up and listen to our terms.”
“List them, then. I have a meeting in fifteen.”
Gee, Dad. I'm so sorry for inconveniencing you. Obviously, my kidnapping is throwing off your schedule, and I should know better. I think it, but it never comes out. I've already snapped at my kidnappers. Why can't I ever make myself do it at Dad? Maybe because, unlike him, my kidnappers haven't hit me yet.
“I don't give a fuck about your meetings. If you want your lovely daughter back in one piece, dissolve the anti-biker task force. After that, you're going to step down. We don't want you sticking your dirty fingers into city politics ever again.”
The line is silent for a moment, and I allow myself to grow hopeful.
Or not.
“I don't negotiate with terrorists, so here are my terms. Let Emily go, and I'll have the judge recommend life sentences rather than just exterminate you vermin. Call me back when you're ready to surrender.” Then, with an annoyed snort, he hangs up, leaving us all staring at the phone.
Hero pushes himself out of the chair. It creaks dangerously. “What the fuck?” He turns to me.
Having them see how little I matter to my own father cuts to the bone. “The only thing Dad really cares about is his political career. You guys made a mistake. You should've kidnapped his social media manager instead.” I try not to sound too bitter when I say it. While I'm playing it up so they'll hopefully send me home, there's a kernel of truth there that stings. Sure, Dad's never treated me very well, but he'd never just give me up.
I mean, I'm pretty sure.
“Yeah, but… fuck, if anyone took Mom, there wouldn't be anything left after I found them.” Hero punches his fist into his palm and flexes so that it's a wonder he doesn't bust out of his shirt. “I'd pulverize them. Never mind if I had a daughter. Fucking family, man.”