Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
He stood up from his seat at the bar and clenched his fists. “Boy, you are in no position to be talking to me like that!” he roared. “I fucking raised you!”
I blew. Nothing could have held me back. My anger was lethal, and I had a feeling that once I started beating the hell out of him, I wasn’t going to stop until he was fucking dead.
“Raised me?!” I fucking laughed. “What kind of father sends their seventeen-year-old son to prison for three fucking years?! Family is supposed to mean everything, jackass, but obviously, you forgot that part about being fucking family – about raising me!”
“I had to do it for the club,” he snarled. “We couldn’t all go down because of your carelessness!”
I threw the glass across the room. The sound of glass shattering reached my ears, and I heard one of the club bunnies screech.
“My fucking carelessness?!” I roared. “We had a rival club about to fucking kill us! I did what I had to fucking do to protect myself! Men fucking died in there that night, but you fucking gave your only damn son up instead of taking the blame like a real president would!”
“You were always an embarrassment to me anyway, boy,” he sneered at me. “I didn’t fucking want you around, so the best thing that I fucking did for everybody was to ship your ass off.”
I jumped over the counter and swung my leg out to kick him in his face. He stumbled backward, crashing into a table, falling to the floor. I gripped the front of his shirt in my fists and began raining blows to his face.
I wanted to fucking kill him.
He flipped us over so he was on top and slammed his fist into my jaw. I felt blood well up in my mouth almost instantly, and I spat it into his face as a distraction tactic. Using my feet to flip him over my head, I slammed my fist into his temple, knocking him out cold.
But I didn’t stop there. I kept going, releasing all of my anger from all of those years out on him. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to kill him.
“Travis, stop!” I heard a strangely familiar, feminine voice yell. “Travis, stop it – you’re going to kill him!”
Soft hands gently grabbed my arm and tugged on it. “Travis, look at me.”
I slowly turned my head. Katie was kneeling beside me, her pretty, blue eyes aimed at my face, not a hint of fear in her expression.
I looked around the room. Everyone’s eyes held terror, and they didn’t dare come close. I looked back at Katie. Still, the only thing lingering in her eyes and her expression was concern and worry. She slowly raised her hand and wiped my face. “You’re crying,” she murmured. “Come on.”
I slowly stood up from the floor, and she held my hand in both of hers as we walked to her room. “Lay on the bed,” she quietly ordered as she shut the door behind us. I just did as she said without arguing. I was still in a haze, trying to bring myself out of the pit that I had just sunk into.
Fuck, I really wanted to kill that fucker.
I fucking hated that I had cried. He had to be the only fucking person in the world that I had ever shed tears over. I didn’t cry when I found out my dad betrayed me and turned me into the cops. I didn’t cry when my mom left because she couldn’t handle being the wife of a president. I didn’t cry when my best friend was shot right in front of me on a run gone bad.
So, why the fuck was I crying now?
Katie came back into the room with some ice. “You’re not laying down,” she lightly scolded.
I laid back onto the bed, and she slipped my boots off of my feet. She then crawled over me, placing a leg on either side of my hips so she was straddling me. If I wasn’t feeling so out of it, I probably would have stripped her clothes off of her right then.
She grabbed my hands and placed them on my stomach, putting an ice pack across my knuckles. I hissed at the sudden cold. “Sorry,” she apologized, her voice soft and sweet, wreaking havoc on my fucking soul. “Your hands are beginning to swell.”
She picked up the other ice pack and placed it against my jaw. She stayed silent as I gathered myself back together.
I ran my eyes over her face. She had her lips pursed in concentration, and it was probably the most fucking adorable thing I’d ever seen in my life. Her eyebrows were pulled together, as if she was thinking about something really hard. But when I looked at her eyes, I suddenly remembered that she had been crying earlier. Her eyes were still red and puffy, as was her nose, showing that she had cried a lot.