Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“I still have some checking to do. Whatever the fuck it was, he was keeping it quiet and being pretty fucking stealthy about it.”
“Shit,” I mutter. There’s a course of grunts around me, because we all know that’s trouble. Weasel didn’t get his nickname without reason. “I’m going to call an old friend. He’s had some dealings with Kuzma. Word is that fucker works closely with the Garcias.”
“That’s an ugly can of worms you’re opening boss,” String warns.
“That’s why I’m opening it slowly. I’ll talk with Anthes about it and see what he can find out. Now, everyone go and do the shit that needs to be done,” I growl, tired already of meeting with them. They all stand up, but my eyes land on Ghost. “All but, Ghost,” I order. Everyone stops. There’s an undercurrent going on, and though they may not understand all of it—they understand enough.
“Brother—” Ride starts.
“Stay out of it, Ride,” I warn, my gaze not leaving Ghost’s. His stare is just as fixed. The room clears out rather quickly, and the door closes, but Ride is the one who closes it. “I told you to leave,” I yell at him again, still not taking my eyes off of Ghost.
Ghost takes his cut off and I do the same. We know what’s about to go down. This isn’t about the club. This is man to man.
“Way I figure it, one of us around here needs to keep our head on straight so you two fuckers don’t kill yourselves.”
“It’s none of your business,” Ghost growls at Ride.
“There’s something we can agree on,” I answer and I take my rings off one at a time, seeing how he is too. I don’t want it said I loaded the fight when I have his ass packed out of here.
“Whatever happened to the old saying, bros before hos?” Ride asks sarcastically.
“She’s not a ho,” I growl, and I can respect that Ghost answers the same, right along with me.
“She’s not yours either,” I taunt Ghost when we start circling each other.
He makes an angry jab at me, that comes nowhere close. It was done out of anger, but he hasn’t lost control; he’s merely feeling me out and wondering exactly when I’ll attack.
“You shouldn’t touch her,” Ghost yells, taking yet another jab into empty air.
“You’re pissed ‘cause you didn’t get in there first,” I mock, defending his blow easily. He’s going easy on me. Does he think I’m so damn old that I can’t hand him his ass? He’s about to learn that’s a mistake.
“She’s been through a lot. She needed time to heal.”
“She needed a man. Trust me brother, I give Toi exactly what she needs,” I smirk and he swings at me again. He almost gets me this time, but I still manage to side-step the blow.
“Are you going to hit back or dance around like a fucking girl?” he complains, irritated when he can’t connect to flesh.
“I’m just telling you that I have Toi taken care of. She even begs me for it and takes it so fucking sweet your teeth would hurt,” I taunt.
“Fuck, that’s low, Marcum,” Ride laughs, shaking his head. It is. I’m a fucking asshole, but it’s also exactly what makes Ghost let go of what control he had. He charges at me head on, crying out like a fucking wild boar attacking prey. He hurls his body at me and sends us both careening through the damn air a good foot before we crash into the table. The hard pine of the table slaps against my back and fuck, that’s going to hurt in the morning. Ghost clamps his arms around me, but he can’t dodge my knee that comes up to sucker-punch the fucker in the nuts. When he curls into his own body from the blow, I raise both arms up and chop down on the asshole, connecting at the side of his neck. He goes down like fucking lead.
“Get up, motherfucker,” I growl, kicking his sorry ass with my boot. He climbs up and he’s not bleeding and that needs to be rectified. I want him bleeding.
“You’re too fucking old for her and she sure as hell ain’t your kind of woman,” Ghost barks. I pop my hand out quick and hit him in the mouth. That’s what he gets for saying that kind of shit to me. Especially when it’s the same old shit I’ve been using to stay away from her.
His lip starts bleeding—not a lot, but enough that the deep red running from the corner makes me way too fucking happy.
“You don’t know shit!” I growl, even though he does. He’s not wrong. I am too fucking old for Toi and shit, she’s not like any of the other women I’ve messed with. She’s better than me, she’s better than any fucking other person in my life that I’ve had. She’s the kind of girl that can stand toe to toe with Tess and not be less. She fits. She’s the kind of mother I wish my kids always had.