Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’m fucking dead either way. The others are already gone,” he says.
There's a tinge of desperation in his voice, but is it real? I know my mind's already really fucking biased against him. Even if he's telling the truth, he isn't getting a lot of fucking sympathy from us.
Hero, an officer and part of King’s family with Emily, shares a dark look with King. “And we should give a fuck because why?”
The guy shakes his head. “Asylum first. I’m not telling you shit until you promise to get me out of this city.”
“I don’t trust him,” Wraith says in a low, deadly voice. “What club are you with?”
“None. I was with the Unwanted before you destroyed them but I saw the writing on the wall and got the fuck out. Been an independent since.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “That’s fucking convenient. We’ll just go raise the dead to verify your story.”
He scowls at us. “Believe me or don’t. Do we have a deal?”
King nods. “Follow us. If your info’s good, we’ll get you set up out of state, and if not? I won’t kill you, but I’ll drop you back on the street and let you find a new rock to scramble under.”
And then we can track him down and make him pay for giving Kaylee fucking nightmares.
He gives it a moment's thought before he nods. “Yeah. Alright. Deal.”
“You got a name?” King asks.
“Scar,” he says.
Well that’s really fucking unoriginal. I see Deuce and Shrapnel hanging out in the garage, watching. “You two! Put some sheets and shit in the cell. He can make his own bed, just make sure he's got what he needs.”
They nod and scramble to follow my order.
Nitro pulls me aside. “I’m going to take Kaylee back to the clubhouse. She doesn’t need to see this.”
“Do it.”
“Don’t suppose I could get a beer? Running for my life has me fucking parched,” Scar says, leering at Kaylee’s ass as she walks away.
Oh, I’m going to kill this asshole if someone doesn’t beat me to it.
Blade grabs a beer out of the workshop fridge on the way to the interrogation room in one of the outbuildings. The same one with the cell that Scar will be sleeping in tonight. It’s a glorified shed that we use when we don’t trust people in the clubhouse.
He sits down, puts his feet on the table and twists the cap off his bottle. “The whole fucking thing was a setup.”
King cracks his knuckles. “No shit. If that’s your big reveal, get ready to run.”
“No, not you, asshole. I mean we were told where to be and who to shoot. The Eagles were supposed to get the blame, but it was an internal fucking matter if you catch my drift.”
“The mob?” Wraith asks. “What the fuck would the Giordanos have to gain by that?”
“Well, we weren’t exactly privy to their meetings, but I got the feeling not everyone was equally happy to be sucking your dicks. I got paid and I didn’t ask questions.” Scar shrugs and flashes a lopsided grin.
King stands. “Lock him in.”
Scar’s leaning back in his chair, and I kick the legs out from under it, landing him on his ass, hard. The beer goes everywhere. “What the fuck, man?”
“Whoops.”
The prospects worked fast, already having the cell ready by the time we’re out of the room. It’s a box room, with nothing but a cot and a pot to piss in, but it will keep him out of the way until we can figure out what to do with him. Wraith pats him down, takes his phone, and shoves Scar through the door, sliding the deadbolt from the outside.
“Do you believe him?” I ask King.
The VP shakes his head. “I believe he knows something, but his story fucking stinks. Tonight’s our meeting with the Giordanos. They’re expecting something, and we don’t have shit to show them. The leads are going nowhere. If Scar’s story is true, then we’re the ones with some big fucking questions tonight, and either way, I have a feeling Arturo will be very interested in interrogating Scar himself.”
23
WRAITH
I pound my fist on the outside of Scar’s accommodations. “Put your pencil dick away, we’re coming in. Time to earn your keep.”
There's no answer.
Nitro slips his hand into his jacket and palms his gun. “It’s too fucking quiet. Be ready in case he’s planning on jumping us,” he says under his breath.
I nod and throw back the deadbolt, staying clear of the door.
The door swings open, and nothing happens. Cautiously, we look and there he is, rolled over on the cot with his back to us like he's got nothing better to fucking do.
“Rise and fucking shine, Miss America!” Tank shouts.
Not even a twitch.
That's when I notice the bright coppery scent of blood and the dark puddle growing under the cot. There’s a slow dripping sound as Scar’s life slips out onto the floor.