Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I’m so fucking pissed right now I can barely see straight. My eyes are swelling up with that heated feeling.
Allie just makes gulping noises as she watches me in terror. I put each hand on the counter, effectively trapping her between my arms as I tower over her.
My voice comes out in a harsh whisper, “You were my fucking Allie Cat and you left me. I have a son who’s a stranger to me.”
Time slows down as I try to contain the hurt and rage I feel at the world, Allie, and most of all myself. She should have been on the back of my bike, under my protection. Horse was a shitty person to put her on the back of. If I could go back and change that day, I would. I would do it in a heartbeat.
But I can’t, and every single day since she left, I’ve hated myself for it.
The shrilling sound of my cellphone ringing blares from the kitchen table. If the world was burning down around Allie and me, I’d still be the Pres.
“Fuck!” I snarl and turn away from her.
There’s too much happening right now, too much that needs to be said and done. But I have the outside world waitin’ on that phone, and as much as I want to figure out what the fuck is going on with Allie, I have to answer it.
Snatching the phone from the table, I press connect when I see that it’s the local sheriff’s number. His personal number.
“What’s going on, Harry?” I ask.
“We got a dead girl of yours in the trunk of a car,” he says with a deeply pissed off growl.
“What the fuck? How do you know she’s one of ours?” I ask and put my free hand up to the back of my neck.
I can just feel the headache that’s about to erupt.
“You think I don’t know a club girl? This one here’s Snowbird,” he says.
“Goddammit,” I breathe out.
“Her being dead in the trunk of the car ain’t the only issue,” he goes on.
“Yeah? No shit, Harry,” I say feeling this is about to get a lot worse.
“Come down to the address I’m gonna send you. You need to see this in person.”
I’m about to ask him what the fuck’s going on, but he’s already disconnected the call.
Shit.
Looking down at my phone, I frown. Fucking hell, can the world stop turning for just one fucking minute?
As soon as the text with the address arrives, I groan. It’s one of our strip mall parking lots. This ain’t the best look for us. We’re supposed to be keeping the crime out of our town, not bringing it in.
Pressing the contact for Whitey, I only have to wait two rings before he picks up.
“Pres?” comes his deep, soft voice.
“Harry just called, Snowbird was found in the trunk of a car at one of our fuckin’ strip mall parking lots,” I say.
“Goddammit, when?”
I look back at the kitchen. “No clue when they found her, but he wants me down there. I need you to send three brothers up to guard my house, pronto.”
Allie would be out of here the moment I fucking pulled out on the street. Ain’t no way I’m letting her run, and I sure as fuck need her protected.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asks.
“Grem fill you in on Allie?” I ask.
“Yeah, and boy, you must be one lucky—” he starts to say before I cut him off.
“She don’t fuckin’ remember who I am, Whitey, and she’s tryin’ to run. I need her protected and secure,” I say and then head to the living room.
“Fuck, that ain’t no good. I’ll get Hammy, Steve, and Poster Boy up there.”
“Good, I’m taking Grem with me. I’ll let you know what’s happening as soon as I do.”
“Alright, be safe, Coy. I can feel a cold-ass wind comin’ from somewhere,” he rumbles.
“Will do. And if you can, get a hold of Anchorage. We need those guns now.”
Pushing the disconnect button, I look down at Levi and smile at his happy face. It’s still slightly greasy from all that butter, but damned if he don’t look happy.
“Gotta get dressed, little guy,” I say before heading back to the kitchen.
“Come with me,” I say to Allie.
She’s regained some of her composure but not enough to fight me too hard.
Heading back into the bedroom, I strip out of my jeans and boxers. “I gotta go out for a couple of hours.”
“What? Why?” she asks.
“Club business,” I say and turn to look at her.
Is that concern I see at me leaving? Does she realize yet I’m the fucking one that’s going to keep her safe and cared for? Probably not.
But she will.
“Don’t get the idea you’ll be skittering out the door, either. I’ve got brothers comin’ over to keep your narrow ass safe,” I say as I yank on a fresh pair of jeans.