Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
The leader of the group steps forward, baring his teeth in a vicious manner. “You think I’m scared of a few cameras? Or a couple of fucking bikers? Nobody is going to know we came back for you. By the time we’re through, you’ll be too scared to say our name.”
Oh. Shit.
“Why are you upset?” I throw at them. “Because you got hit by a girl or because you ran away scared from a bunch of bikers?”
His eyes flash and he takes another step forward. My phone is in my pocket, if I can somehow try to unlock it ...
“Nobody pushes us around, nobody. We will run this town one day, and we’re going to start by removing every single one of those filthy bikers, but not before we rid the world of women like you ...”
“Women like me?” I scoff, trying to distract them as I slip my hand into my pocket. “I didn’t do anything but walk alone. You attacked me, remember?”
He keeps stepping toward me and each time he does, I take a step back and my hand goes into my pocket. When my back is to the glass, I realize what he’s doing. He has pushed me out of the way of the security cameras. Smarter than I first thought. I try to use my thumb print to unlock my phone, but I have no idea if it’s working, I can only press buttons and hope to god it accidentally calls someone.
“Get your fucking hand out of your pocket,” he growls, pulling a gun from his jacket and slamming it against my temple.
I whimper, the pain overwhelming as I drop to my knees. Blood trickles down my head and I try hard not to pass out. I clutch the spot, my other hand coming out from my pocket. I pray a car will go past, or someone will help me, but the street is dead quiet.
“You’re coming with us.”
“I’m not going fucking anywhere with you, buddy,” I spit and then at the top of my lungs I scream. I scream so loudly I didn’t even know I had it in me.
Someone will hear it. I know they will. I pray they will.
He hits me again, this time multiple times, over and over until I’m on the ground, head spinning, pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt ripping through my body. I cry out and clutch my face, trying to protect myself. He kicks me next, a boot right to the ribs that takes my breath away. Then he orders the other two to get the truck around the side, and to hurry.
He grabs my arm and tries to drag me without pulling me out far enough to catch the security footage. He pulls me toward the side of the building where I’m sure his friends are going to be waiting. If they take me, it’ll be the end. I’ll have zero chance of ever getting away from them. I squirm and fight, doing my best to shove him off even though I feel like I’m going to die from the pain.
“Let. Her. Go.”
The voice is terrifying, and oh so familiar. I look up to see Riggs standing with his gun pointed at the man, Beckett and Adan behind him. A second later, Hugh and Hank come around from the side of the building holding the other two men and Remy follows close by with a gun pointed on them just for extra protection.
The man releases me and steps back.
“We warned you once, and you had the nerve to come back. This time around, you fuckin’ won’t be,” Riggs growls, and then he steps forward and slams his gun over the man’s head, dropping him out cold. The moment he’s slumped on the ground, the other two start begging and pleading, saying they weren’t involved.
“Take them to the clubhouse, get them loaded in the truck,” Riggs orders, not glancing at them, but keeping his eyes on me. “Remy, pick this motherfucker up. We’ll take them for a drive and ensure they never fuckin’ return.”
The guys drag them away, and I can hear their pleading for long minutes to come. Riggs shoves the gun in his pocket and walks over, leaning down and scooping me into his arms.
“Of course you play Prince Charming,” I mutter through my pain.
He grunts. “We both know I’m not Prince Charming.”
He’s right.
We do.
He carries me to my apartment, and I hand him the key to unlock the door. He refuses to put me down, like I’m some sort of damsel in distress. Though, right now, I do feel like I might pass out. I’m in a lot of pain and probably need to go to a hospital. Still, he’s doing the right thing helping me. He doesn’t have to, god knows he doesn’t want to, but here he is anyway.