Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“He won’t, not if I can help it.”
I look around as the rest of our brothers cover the south exit and emergency exits. I plan to rip his fucking head off as soon as I get my eyes on Kelsey.
“Where’s Angel and Devon?”
“Keeping an eye on the docks, making sure Santos doesn’t try any moves today.”
I nod. “He knows we’re coming after him, and now would be the perfect time to try some shit.”
Damn that fucker. He thought his plan through. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“True and for many reasons,” Shades jokes. “But right now, we don’t have time to go into specifics. You said your head was in this shit. Is that still true?”
Shades is right. I need to get my fucking head in the game. If Ace is right, and Kelsey is still alive, she needs me now more than I need to berate myself for not noticing they had eyes on us.
“It’s true. I’m ready.”
I suck in three deep breaths and let each one out for longer and longer until I’m outwardly calm and focused.
“Ready.”
“Good. Let’s go.” We all get into position, Shades at the door with me at his back; the same set up at the other exits. Having veterans in the MC gives us the needed organization when it comes to ops and ambushes. The telltale buzz at his wrist puts Shades on full alert. He stands a little taller, tries the door handle, but it doesn’t give.
“Stand back,” he says and smacks three circular devices at the door hinges and takes a few steps back as well.
Twenty seconds later, a small, controlled burst of energy releases, and the door falls off easily. It’s go time.
The warehouse is dim inside but not dark. I see the high windows that Kelsey described, but the place reeks of gasoline despite the fact the Iron Kings don’t deal in gas, cars, bikes, or any other kind of vehicles. This gasoline is meant to cover the smell of something else.
“Smells like rotten ass and motor oil,” Shades whispers before motioning me forward down the long aisle lined with oversized boxes. “I got your six. Find your woman.”
I nod and advance forward, the same as if I’d trained with Ace and Shades in the Marines.
My eyes sweep side to side with every step I take, looking for signs of familiar blonde hair, enemies, weapons, and any other threats aimed at us.
“Clear,” I whisper through the aisle to my right, where Shades moves at my pace.
“Left,” he says in response, and at the end of the aisle, we both turn left.
“No.”
The word is just a squeak, a whimper, but it’s close to us.
“You hear that?” I mouth the words to Shades, and he nods toward the right.
“Go,” he mouths back. “Right behind you.”
I move forward toward the squeak, then suddenly, my legs feel unsteady. Focus, I tell myself and move closer. Kelsey needs me, and if that whimper is what I think it is, then she’s still alive. For now.
Another whimper sounds, and my feet pick up the pace. My heart races, drumming against my chest so loud it almost blocks out the sound of Kelsey. The path to the right ends, and I turn right again, but it’s just a wall. To the left, I see four armed men standing almost in single file, smiling and laughing.
My feet continue to advance forward, and that’s when I see it, the filthy fucking mattress, a bare-assed man, thrusting and groaning between a pair of familiar sun-kissed legs that go on forever.
My gaze goes up and up until I see a halo of blonde hair on the mattress, a few more whimpers escape, but she’s not moving, not fighting for her life.
“Looks unconscious,” Shades says quietly. “On my mark.”
Somehow I tear my gaze from Kelsey and focus on Shades. At his nod, we turn back to the men, metal aimed for combat.
The first bullet strikes the man on top of Kelsey, right through his temple, blowing his brains out across the room. He falls limp on top of her. The other four turn toward us and raise their guns, but they’re too late. Four shots in quick succession and each asshole member of the Iron Kings crumples to the ground.
I rush to Kelsey, kicking the dead asshole off her body. She’s not unconscious, but she is out of it, screaming and kicking and clawing at me as I try to get her off the mattress.
“No! No! Get away from me!”
My heart clenches at her fear and her fury.
“Kelsey, it’s me, Coop. It’s Coop.”
She freezes and opens her eyes, deep blue rimmed with red from hours of tears. “Coop?”
“Yeah, it’s me. You’re all right, Kelsey. You’re safe now.” I scoop her in my arms. “I’m gonna get you out of here, Kelsey. I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper in her ear, but she says nothing, just wraps her arms around me, and rests her head on my shoulder while her body shakes with tears.