Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
My phone pings with a text and I open the message. “The shoe drops,” I sob.
Clayton
I’m still working through this paperwork at the club as my thoughts start to wander and I get this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I look at my watch and not even an hour has passed. It’s still too soon to go home and I have enough work here.
Yet, I can’t help my nagging thoughts. The wedding is a week away and it feels like more of a sham now than it ever did in the beginning. The closer we get, the more I fear she’s going to call it off. She’s going to wake up one day and see she has all the power.
Nowhere in the contract did it state she had to marry me. I want to rush the days ahead before she realizes that. Once we say I do, I’ll be able to breathe easier. She’ll be mine and I’ll spend the rest of my life worshipping the ground she walks on and showing her with me is where she’s always belonged.
“We’ve got a problem,” Vault’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I look up from my desk and focus on him. He’s been in New York a lot lately. I’m not complaining. He’s been instrumental in helping me get all this drama under control.
I know it will come with a price. Vault isn’t your usual Lost Soul. He’s a Squad member, so you can say he’s been on loan from King, the Lost Souls’ prez.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I huff, sitting back in my chair.
“Detective Garret has been receiving anonymous tips again,” he says gruffly.
“Do I want to know how you know this?”
“Just doing my job,” he says through a crooked grin.
“Mm,” I grunt. “Why is this a problem for me?”
“This time, the warrant will be for you,” he says as if he’s tasting ash.
“Do we have enough on him yet? I’m tired of waiting,” I snap.
“You seriously think he’s the one behind all of this?” Vault’s eyes cloud over.
“Of my two assumptions, he fits the best.”
“Still, something feels off to me. Like we’re painting half a picture. I have some of the brothers back at the New York chapter asking around for me and doing some digging. There’s a lot of white space and gray areas,” he muses aloud.
“Well, we need to fill in that space and areas. I’m a little tired of people trying to take a bite out of my ass,” I snarl.
“Tell me about it. Making that little fed problem go away was a lot tougher than I hoped it would be,” he mutters. “By the way, King wants to call in a favor for that one.”
“Add it to my tab. Tell him to name it. If I can move enough to do it with all this bullshit, he’s got it,” I reply.
“He’ll appreciate that.” Vault nods. “Brick will bring you the terms and details.”
“He’s not too busy making babies?” I smile for the first time today.
“Why do you think I’ve been hiding out in New York? The clubhouse has turned into a baby registry.” He chuckles.
“I wouldn’t mind some of that luck.” My smile broadens.
Vault looks down at his phone as it pings. His face clouds over as he swipes a few times. When he looks up at me, the floor feels like it drops right from under me. I know this isn’t good.
He moves to my desk, shoving his phone in my face. My eyes nearly pop from my head when I look at the images before me. They’re from tonight. The incident from earlier pops into my head clearly.
The blonde and her friends I comped. It was all innocent. I can’t think of a moment when I wasn’t thinking about the club and blocking a potential liability. However, the entire incident was captured at angles that changed the narrative of what truly happened.
From the pictures, every single part of that interaction looks like something totally different, from the fall outside the club to me escorting her and her friends inside to me checking on their table.
“What the fuck?” I hiss as I scroll through Vault’s phone.
My phone pings, causing me to snatch it up to check it. My heart jumps in my throat when I see a mass text to Sid, Chloe, Gregor, Cane, and myself. It’s the same fucking photos. I want to hurl my phone across the room.
I’m out of my chair, heading for the door before I can tell my feet to move. I have to get to Sid. This shit looks bad, very bad.
“You want me on this?”
“Find out where they came from,” I bark over my shoulder as I storm from the room.
The trip to the apartment feels like it takes years. I can’t stop flipping through these fucking pictures. I try to call Sid repeatedly, but she won’t answer a single one of my calls.