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)
“Son, are you going to tell me what’s happening here?” Warden asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve sent her mother home. Visiting hours are over.”
“You’re still here,” Colt said.
“The rules don’t quite apply to me,” Warden said.
“I’m taking care. I promised I’d take care of her and her mother, and Petal. I failed. Just like I failed Nancy.”
“No, you didn’t fail Nancy, Colt. You never did.”
“She died, Dad, she died on my watch.”
Warden sighed and took the seat opposite. He looked over toward his father and he didn’t hide his shame.
“Son, the last time I checked, you weren’t bulletproof. You hadn’t morphed into any special ability. In fact, that day I nearly lost both of my children. Don’t for a second think I’m not grieving, because I miss Nancy every single day. Every fucking day I miss my little girl. I miss her smile and her ability to make even the hardest of us laugh.”
Colt thought about Horror, one of the club brothers. The man never smiled. He had a constant frown on his face. He didn’t know why, but he imagined it was down to some of the shit he’d seen in his life. Nancy was the only person to ever make him laugh. Not a small laugh either, but a guttural, deep-throated laugh. It had freaked Colt out the first time he saw it. Horror always looked so serious to him. Since Nancy’s death, Horror had never laughed, not even a twitch.
“Then why the fuck did you strike this deal?” Colt asked. “Why put yourself and Mom through this?”
“You know the last time we met the Evil Fuckers MC?” Warden asked.
Colt nodded. He had gotten shot and they had lost three good men. That had been a sad day.
Warden pursed his lips. “Your mother said the bloodshed had to end, or at least to figure a way for us to live in peace. I know I couldn’t live in peace with that piece of shit, but I could find a way to bring him down and that’s what I’m doing.”
Colt lifted his head and frowned. “What?”
“As we speak, Ox, Myth, Horror, and Dirty have all broken into Daemon’s compound. They’re having a big fuck-off party and seeing as it’s raining, they’re all inside. They’re stealing the truck.”
Colt ran a hand down his face. “Are you sure about this?”
“Deadly fucking sure,” Warden said. “I’m done playing games. Today, I realized that Daemon is doing the same. This is not for us to play happy families or to find a way to live in peace with the two clubs together. This is war. He’s playing dirty and he’s more than willing to hurt his daughter in the process. This”—Warden pointed at Rosalie—“this I can’t take. She’s his little girl. His only daughter.”
“And you want to take him out.”
“I want to watch the club burn to the ground, because it’s the best place for it.” Warden sighed. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but now I see the error of my ways.” He got to his feet. “I hope you realize what she means to you.”
Colt frowned and looked up to his dad. “What?”
“Today, you were not a man just taking revenge for your wife being hurt. You were a man exacting revenge on those who dared to touch your woman.”
“There’s no difference,” Colt said.
“There is a difference, son. There’s a huge difference because you would allow the men I’ve assigned to the hospital to keep an eye on a person who only holds a title. Instead, you’re here because you’re taking care of someone who matters to you, who belongs to you, and you need to realize that difference.”
Warden left the room and Colt kept his gaze on Rosalie. The bruising had started to come out. Her lip had some medical tape over it, and it looked so swollen. He’d experienced a few split lips in his time and they were never fun. Colt got to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Ah, what are you doing?” Rosalie laughed. He loved the sound and then as he picked her up in his arms, she tried to struggle but he took them both out into the ocean. Rosalie continued to flail in his arms, trying to hold on.
He let her go, dropping her into the ocean. He tried to make a run for it, to get as far away as possible, but he failed. Rosalie had caught up to him and jumped on his back. He could have easily carried them both out to the sand, but that wouldn’t have been quite so fun as to dip them both into the ocean, so he did exactly that.
He pulled out of the memory of their honeymoon. It had been a fleeting moment in time. One of many they shared during their time away when he stopped thinking about her as the enemy and started to see her as his, as his wife, his woman.