Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
In her worry, she’d forgotten her sister was on the line. “Reilly?”
When she didn’t get a response, she glanced down to the cell phone gripped in her fingers. The call had ended. She quickly tried to get her back on the line, but it went directly to voicemail.
She didn’t like that. Not at all.
She also hated not knowing what the hell was going on.
Movement caught her eye and a plain black van with dark tinted windows sped through the parking lot and an open gate. The chain-link fence started at the right side of the garage and disappeared around back.
The yard Reilly mentioned. Most garages had a fenced yard at the back of their businesses to secure vehicles and store junk cars for parts. Dutch’s Garage didn’t seem to be any different.
She had no idea who was in the black van, though. Could it be someone working with Billy? Could this be some sort of ambush? Were they there to kidnap her sister?
She needed to warn Deacon and Judge.
Reese shoved open the passenger door and jumped from the truck. She ran through the open bay door, not caring she was barefoot. She didn’t stop until she got to the office, only to find the door open and the office empty.
Fuck!
“Reilly!” she yelled.
Again, no response.
“Deacon!”
Fuck this!
She searched the garage for a way out back and saw a steel door. She rushed over, yanked it open, and spotted everyone outside.
Even Reilly.
Who was told to stay in the fucking office!
Deacon, Judge, Whip, Rook, Dutch, Cage, Shade and Rev stood in a circle.
She could barely see him, but Billy Warren was on his knees in the dirt with his hands cuffed behind his back. Reilly kept trying to push through the biker barrier without luck. The guys blocked her every time.
She did this while holding a blood-stained towel to the side of her head. The sight of that stole Reese’s breath.
“Reilly!” she shouted, causing all heads to spin her way.
Deacon’s expression instantly showed his displeasure. “Told you to stay in the fuckin’ truck!”
Judge scowled and shook his head.
With a few smirks and more head shakes, the rest of them went back to staring at the man on the ground.
She rushed to her sister, pulling the towel away from her head. “Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?”
“No, it’s just a surface wound.”
Reese tried not to panic. She knew head wounds bled a lot, making them seem worse than they were, but still...
Billy had a damn bat. Her eyes sliced from Reilly’s head to the man on the ground, who wasn’t saying a word.
“No ambulances here. You wanna take her to the hospital, take Deke’s truck,” Judge ordered. “Whip, go close the gate for now. Rev, shut the garage doors and lock them. We don’t want anyone else wanderin’ back here.”
The last was directed at her.
Fuck him. This had to do with her sister, not his. She had every right to know and be involved with what was going on.
She turned to Deacon, shooting off questions like a machine gun. “Why is he just sitting there? Are you planning on taking him into custody? Delivering him to Bianchi? What if he gets out and does this again? Will my sister never be safe?”
Nobody was doing anything and something had to be done.
Fuck this shit.
She held out her hand. “Give me your gun.”
Muttered curses rose from every one of his brothers standing in that circle, some louder than others.
Deacon stared at the woman holding out her hand like she expected him to just hand over his Ruger so she could plug a .40 into the fucker’s head.
Not on his fucking watch.
She wasn’t thinking clearly, that was for damn sure. Her reaction was emotional, not practical.
Killing Warren could destroy her life. Even removing any chance she’d get caught for it, she would have to live with that decision forever.
He wasn’t putting that on her.
Warren laughed and spat a wad of blood onto the dirt next to him. He was still bleeding from his mouth and nose from the fight he’d had with Rook.
Rook was a little banged up, too. He had a smear of blood under his nose and some blood splatter on his shirt and cut. The knuckles on his right hand were also torn up.
“Like you’d let that cunt kill me. I’m worth too much alive.”
Deacon’s gaze slid back to the piece of shit on his knees. He clenched his jaws to keep from giving the fucker a boot to the face. But then, that wouldn’t be a fair fight.
Just like when Warren beat up women.
A muscle popped in his jaw when he ground his teeth.
“You ain’t worth shit,” Judge said before Deacon could.
“Wrong. I’m worth something to that one standing there.” Warren jerked his chin toward Deacon. “The one with the girly braid and nose ring like the bitch he is. Bet his boyfriend leads him around with a leash hooked to that nose ring, then uses the braid like a handle while giving it to him up the ass.”