Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“It means she wasn’t fucking busy and had to take the trash out,” Al said.
Colt reached out, grabbing him around the neck. “Don’t take me for a fool. I’m not one.” He punched him hard in the face and this time, blood started to ooze out of his nose. Staring past Al’s shoulder, he saw the display of knives. There were several chopping boards spread out on the counter. In his mind, Rosalie’s bruised body, curled up near the trash entered his mind, and he saw red. Without even thinking this one through, he grabbed Al and reached for the knives.
Ox stepped forward, restraining Al, and Colt just acted. First, it was a thumb that came off.
“Who gave the fucking order?”
“Fuck you. Warden!” Al shouted toward their Prez, and while he did, Colt removed two more fingers. They would be easily sewn back on at the hospital if he was wrong but he knew he wasn’t. Al had struck a deal. All he needed now was for Al to admit it to him.
“Who gave the order? I’ll take the whole fucking hand.” He moved his own down past Al’s wrist, not caring about the blood he’d already spilled.
“Daemon!” Al suddenly screeched. “Daemon gave the order. He told me she had to go and take the trash out. It was supposed to happen before she went on her honeymoon, but then everything got messed up and he paid me a visit telling me if I didn’t, he’d kill me.”
Colt put the knife down and looked at Al.
“So, to save your own ass, you sent a woman out to get beaten up. That was my wife,” Colt said. “My wife that you sent out there. Mine.” He slapped a hand against his chest, feeling the anger rise up.
Rosalie was his. She fucking belonged to him. She wore his ring, carried his name, and one day, would carry his child.
Colt had never felt this much rage before. Not by even a smidge. He was so consumed. He picked up another knife and before he could stop himself, he pressed the blade into Al’s throat. The man didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t move away.
“And you ended up dead anyway,” Colt said, keeping him upright for a few seconds, before allowing him to drop to the floor.
Chapter Eighteen
A concussion.
A broken rib.
A sprained ankle.
Lots of bruises and cuts.
It was a beating but hadn’t left too much lasting damage.
That was what the doctor had said. The doctor the club always used at the hospital when they had no choice but to go.
Colt sat in the chair nearest Rosalie’s hospital bed. He’d already sent Gabrielle home for the evening. She hadn’t wanted to go but he knew Rosalie would prefer her mother to be at home, getting some rest, not at the hospital worrying about her.
No, he was the one who sat, watching her. She hadn’t woken up. The doctor had given her a mild sedative to help her sleep, so her body could just relax through the healing tonight. Colt had no idea what she’d be like when she woke up. The fear or the pain she might feel.
Running fingers through his hair, there was only one other time in his life that he’d felt like a failure. His sister. Nancy. He’d failed her by not being able to stop the bullets that had taken her life and now, he hadn’t been able to stop the beating Rosalie had taken.
After killing Al, his dad had looked a little pissed off, but the rest of the guys seemed to respect him for it. He didn’t give a fuck what they thought. The kill hadn’t been controlled or expected. He’d seen Rosalie in his mind, and that Al had allowed her to get hurt. He’d reacted. There had been no control over what he’d done.
“You should go home,” Warden said, entering the room.
Colt didn’t take his eyes off his woman. “No, I’m staying right here.”
“Son, we’ve got men inside. Nothing else will happen to her.”
“We had men at the diner and look what happened.” Colt shook his head. “I’m not leaving her.”
“Whoever beat her up, whoever Daemon sent, was already there before our guys and Rosalie even turned up. They waited and—”
“And they were customers when I walked in,” Colt said.
“Son?”
“Our guys would have seen someone leaving from around the back. That would have alerted suspicion which means whoever beat her up made their way through the kitchens and was already there when I walked in.” Colt gritted his teeth.
“We’ll find them. We’ve handled … Al, and we’ve got control of the diner now. I’m handling everything.”
“Control of it?”
“We now own it,” Warden said. “All it took was a couple of phone calls. It would seem Al was a very unpopular guy.”
“Yeah, because he fucked everyone over, because he was a piece of shit,” Colt said.