Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Dunno, couldn’t have tackled you if I was a ghost, motherfucker.” Decker jerked his chin at Rez, indicating he should open the rear driver’s door on the Caprice. He set his sights on Nox next. “Brother, grab his feet and help me launch this asshole into the back seat.”
With only an answering nod, Nox grabbed the man’s bound ankles while Decker used the man’s arms to torpedo him into the back of the car.
“Jesus fuck!” T-Bone screamed as his head made contact with the passenger side door.
“Nope, ain’t Jesus, it’s karma, you whiny bitch.” Decker slammed the door shut, cutting off the prospect’s cursing.
“Maybe we should’ve gagged him,” Finn said in a low voice.
“Got no problem tuning him out,” Decker said.
“Where we headed from here?” Rez asked.
“Somewhere where there are no eyes and ears. I’ll lead the way.” With that, Decker jumped into the driver’s seat of the Caprice and pulled the creaky door shut.
With one last glance at each other, the rest of them returned to their vehicles and followed Decker, without one damn clue where they were headed.
The field was perfect since it was dark, deserted and in the middle of nowhere.
As soon as Decker parked, he shut down the Caprice and climbed out. Rez, Nox and Finn parked their borrowed vehicles in a line behind it so T-Bone wouldn’t be able to see their license plates.
No plates, no voices, no names.
An anonymous “come to Jesus” meeting.
Decker practically ripped the back door off the hinges as he opened it and yanked T-Bone out of the backseat by his bound ankles. The prospect landed unceremoniously on the hard ground with an oof, a loud “Fuck!” and followed it with a groan.
“You were supposed to be one of us, Hatchet!” T-Bone screamed. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Your worst nightmare,” Decker answered calmly.
“Russos sent you?”
Rez’s eyebrows shot up with that question. Why would this prospect be paranoid about the Russos? Was he skimming meth from them, too?
“Worse than that,” Decker answered.
“Viper?”
Rez’s BAMC brother let that question hang.
“Wolf?”
Decker let that question hang, too.
By now, the prospect’s puckered asshole had to be drawn so damn tight, he wouldn’t be able to shit for a week.
If it was up to Rez, the man would never be able to shit again.
“C’mon, man! I was gonna pay it all back. The Russos set you up as a prospect in our club so you could watch us?”
Decker ignored that question, too, and reminded him, “Took something that wasn’t yours to take.”
In reality, it was more than one “something.” He took both Sadie and Sloane.
Plus, he almost kidnapped Decker’s four-year-old daughter. If the asshole would’ve succeeded, Rez had a feeling that would’ve been an instant death sentence.
One that did not involve an electric chair or lethal injection.
Fuck no, Decker would’ve ripped the fucker apart piece by piece with his own bare hands.
“Was gonna pay for what I took. I fuckin’ swear! Still can if you let me go. Got a way to make some money on the side.”
Yeah, by pimping out meth-addicted women.
“Weren’t you told prospects are disposable?” Decker asked.
For once, the asshole was silent.
They could hear him breathing hard under the pillowcase. And Rez swore he got a whiff of shit. Someone must’ve had a little accident.
Poor guy.
He grinned.
Decker jerked T-Bone up to a seat and shoved him against the Caprice’s fender. Then he glanced around to make sure they still all had their hats pulled low and their bandanas pulled high before he yanked the pillowcase off the prospect’s head.
T-Bone took them all in with eyes so wide Rez was surprised the whites of them didn’t light up the night.
Decker leaned over and shouted right in T-Bone’s face, “Where’s Sadie?” making the prospect’s head jerk back.
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. Try again. I know you picked her up from the hospital. Saw the proof. Where d’you take her?”
“I didn’t take her anywhere.”
“I smell the shit you took in your fuckin’ pants, asshole. You’re gonna sit in it all fuckin’ night if you hafta ’til you tell me where the fuck she is.”
Decker was a badass. Rez was impressed.
“She wanted dropped off at a motel. So, that’s what I did.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true!” T-Bone screamed.
“What motel?”
“Don’t remember the fuckin’ name!”
“Gimme the address,” Big Deck demanded.
“Don’t know the fuckin’ address.”
“Which fuckin’ town?”
His mouth flopped open and closed a couple of times.
Losing patience, Decker went nose to nose with him and roared, “What fuckin’ town?”
“Wheeling.”
Fuck.
“Where in Wheeling?”
If Rez had to guess, there had to be at least a dozen motels in and around Wheeling, West Virginia. They needed to narrow that down.
“No fucking clue. It was dark. I dropped her off at the office and left.”
More bullshit. The man was as full of it as his pants.
“With no fuckin’ money and no clothes? Nothin’?”
“Gave her money for a room. Didn’t give a fuck about her clothes. She ain’t my problem anymore.”