Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Hey!” Craig’s voice comes down like a whip crack. “Cora! Kady! Don’t you get in that fucking boat.”
I push the boat off and jump, nearly missing. Kady has to help haul me on board as Craig sprints toward us with the two biker guys behind him.
“Key,” I say, fumbling around looking for it. “Fuck, where did Jaxson keep the key?”
“Cora,” Kady says. “They’re coming. They have guns. Cora!”
“Key!” I flip down a small compartment and the key falls out. I snatch it off the floor and shove it into the ignition and turn until the motor roars to life.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Kady asks, panicking. “They’re almost here.”
“No fucking clue,” I admit and shove the throttle up and turn the wheel away from the dock. The boat lurches forward and jerks to the side, but we’re moving. Craig’s yelling and waving a gun and his two goons are stripping off their clothes already, preparing to jump in and swim after us. “Take the wheel.”
I shove Kady into the driver’s seat and shove my hand into my pocket. Inside is the phone Nolan gave me, the phone I’ve been obsessing over, my connection back to him. I type up a text and stare at the words as the bikers jump into the water and Kady steers us toward the middle of the lake.
I’m sorry, Nolan, I’m so sorry. We need you. I need you. Please help. Please hurry.
Chapter 22
Nolan
After killing Hugh, things get hot fast.
The ORB hits back hard. Troy dies, Tom gets hurt. Eric takes a bullet but it doesn’t leave him down for long. They try to burn down the Lonely Cat, but we kill three and run off the rest. The Famiglia sends more guns, more money, and more manpower. Eric hires that biker gang he knows.
Blood runs in the streets of Marietta and it’s like the world’s on fire.
I revel in the chaos. The terror, the carnage, it’s the only thing that sustains me. I kill more ORB bastards than I ever dreamed possible, and for each piece of shit I take down, another takes his place. It’s like this club planned for this war and recruited dozens of fresh bodies to throw into the grinder.
I tear them to pieces and lose myself in the mayhem.
There’s a hole in me now. A dark hole, a pit where my emotions went to die. My future died in there too now that Cora’s gone, and I could go after her but what would that get me? She ran away for a reason, and I can’t even blame her for it.
She’s safer without me.
I’ll only drag her down into this hell too.
One morning three days after it all blows apart, I’m sitting at the bar of the Lonely Cat drinking a whiskey. I’ve got cuts from broken glass all over my arms and face, and I’m bleeding from a knife wound on my arm. Eric’s nearby counting the money we stole from the ORB-affiliated restaurant we smashed to bits a few hours earlier, and I’m thinking about what Cora said to me.
How it’s like I took all my potential and threw it away.
I used to feel like I had no future. I was a poor white trailer trash redneck loser from an abusive family with barely a high school education. I felt like I had no choices. The Valverde Famiglia was everything, my only chance at making money, my only shot at making myself into something more than just another miserable drunk like my father, drifting through life and hurting everything around me. I felt like this was my shot.
But what if Cora was right and I turned my back on what could’ve been?
What could’ve been with her?
And now it’s like I threw it away a second time.
Nobody gets a third chance.
“You good?” Eric leans against the bar next to me and drops the stack of cash. “Not a bad score.”
“Fuck the money. Burn it.”
He snorts. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I think you’re going full Joker right now.”
“Just feeling like I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
Eric grabs my shoulder. “You’ve got a crew still. You remember that, right?”
“I’m aware. I’m giving everything to this fight and you know it.”
“But I’m worried you’re going too far. You might have a death wish, Nolan, but we don’t.”
I nod slowly. “Do you blame me for Troy then?”
“No, I blame the ORB.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Eric sighs with frustration. He’s about to say something, but my phone goes off. It’s a text, probably from Ben about the latest cash coming in from the Famiglia.
Instead, it’s from the burner I gave to Cora.
“What the fuck is this?” I whisper as I read the text. I’m sorry, Nolan, I’m so sorry. We need you. I need you. Please help. Please hurry.
“What’s wrong?” Eric asks. “Something bad happen? Is everyone okay?”