Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
That much is fucking clear, but that’s not all of it.
“There’s no trace of any unknown person or persons entering or leaving the rest of the property,” Joaquin explains as though we don’t already know that. Between the clubhouse, Angel Harbor Choppers, Ace Motors, and the armory, the place is wired up like a fucking military fortress, and no one had come onto the property or left it.
Dix stares at me for a long time before he starts nodding absently. “Okay, we know what happened. Someone slipped inside and slit the fucker’s throat—may he rot in hell—but we need to be smart about this.”
“Meaning what, exactly,” Shades growls.
“Settle the fuck down,” Dix growls back. “We can’t just start turning on our fellow brothers willy-fucking-nilly. We need to think about this shit like we actually got brains. Which of the prospects carry blades? For that matter, who carries a blade that isn’t seated around this table?” Dix’s unspoken words make all of this shit terrifyingly real.
One of our brothers has betrayed us. It’s what we’re all thinking, even if no one says it out loud.
“Honestly, who doesn’t carry a blade,” Preacher asks. “Even I have a push dagger.” He pulls it from the sheath at his back and lays it on the table for everyone’s inspection.
Shades shakes his head. “That’s not gonna cut anyone’s fucking throat, at least, not without turning them into mincemeat. I’m talking about a blade or a dagger, some razor-sharp shit meant for slitting throats,” he shoots back and pulls a butterfly knife from the inside pocket of his kutte. “Like this.”
Ace shakes his head. “Bigger than that. Hector was practically decapitated, his head dangling by a few strips of skin.”
“This would do it,” Dix says and stands to unhook the Kukri knife from his belt, “but I didn’t fucking do it.”
“No shit,” Ace growls. “That fucking thing would have taken his head clean off.”
Shades slams both of his fists on the table. “Why the fuck are we pretending it’s any of us when we all know it was that prick, Jordi. He’s a traitor. That’s why he nearly got Letty killed.”
That particular sin of Jordi’s wouldn’t be forgiven anytime soon, and I hope, for Jordi’s sake, that he’s not the mole.
“He doesn’t have to be a traitor,” I remind Shades. “Prospects fuck up, a lot. It’s the nature of the gig. We need to be smart like Dix said. Maybe they were paid or leaned on to do this.”
It’s unlikely, but we had to be sure of who did it and why before we make them pay.
“We’ll figure out the why but we need the who first.” Ace looks around the room at each and every one of us to make damn sure we understand what he’s saying. Finding the perp is the most important task of the moment.
“All right,” Dix agrees. “Let’s start with the prospects. Question them first and go from there.”
“Where the fuck are they?” Ace’s jaws clench tight, and I can see how much this is stressing him out. Even though nobody’s shedding tears over Hector’s death, killing him won’t be without consequences.
“Lucky is over at Ace with his brother, Diesel. Jordi and Tank are downstairs in The Chamber,” Dix answers and stands again. “I’ll get them.”
Ace nods and turns to me. “Wilder, get eyes on the rest of the probies.”
I nod and follow Dix out to get my laptop since Church is a tech-free zone just to make sure none of our enemies can hear what goes on in here. My laptop bag sits on a table in the clubhouse, where Stella sits at the bar sipping a Long Island Iced Tea.
“A bottle of water, please, sweetheart?”
She slides off the stool with a smile, swinging her hips as she retrieves the bottle and hands it to me. “There you go, doll face. Somethin’ on your mind?”
“Too fucking much,” I tell her and hold up the water. “Thanks, Stella.”
“Sure thing.” She strolls back to the bar just as Ace walks in, the others not far behind him.
“Stella, out,” he barks.
She’s the oldest club whore and the smartest. Without a question, she nods, grabs her purse, and slips out without a word, just a quick wave.
I look up at Ace’s dark expression. “What’s up?”
“We’re gonna grill them right here. See who can lie straight to our faces inside our inner sanctum. These men are probies. They don’t get to step foot inside Church when one of them might be a traitor.”
I nod and start digging into each of the prospects’ lives. It’s already been done once, when they officially became prospects to join the Reckless Souls, but now I’m digging deeper to see who’s made a big bank deposit, bought a new car or house. I want to know if someone bought Mom or Dad a house, or a Benz, anything out of the ordinary for a lowly prospect.