Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“That’s a big claim,” Carver says. “Am I to assume that you were in league with my father?”
Harding’s gaze snaps right back to mine as if only now just remembering that he’s in a room full of people who would happily end his life if the next words out of his mouth were the wrong ones. “I didn’t say anything of the sort,” he demands, his tone loud and heard right across the room. “Dante Carver is putting thoughts in your head, trying to diminish my credibility for his own gain. He should be reported.”
I scoff. “You destroyed your own credibility just by sitting on the left-hand side of the table, but more so, do I need to remind you that only a week ago, after spending the night saving our people, you sat in my living room and happily pointed the finger at everyone else except yourself?”
“I had nothing to do with that attack,” he roars, pushing Carver away from him and standing, leaning forward onto his knuckles and sending a sharp, lethal glare my way. “I buried my own fucking brother just yesterday. How dare you suggest that I was at fault.”
“Tell me, Harding, at what point since entering this room did the words ‘you’re responsible for the attack’ come out of my mouth? I simply pointed out how quick you are to blame the men around you, and in my experience, the ones who like to point fingers are the ones who will happily stab you in the back.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been here for two seconds and already, you think you have every one of us figured out.”
I laugh. “Trust me, it wasn’t hard. You’re pretty fucking transparent, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Isn’t the whole purpose of this council to have sixteen heads all working together for the greater good of our organization? We’re supposed to be a well-oiled machine, but I see nothing but a bunch of children swinging their dicks and hoping for a little recognition.” I look between Michael and Carver. “Both of you sit your stubborn asses down so we can peacefully discuss the topics which brought us here. It’s been a long day, hell, it’s been a long fucking month. So, can we please just get through one meeting without the world imploding around us?”
“Sounds like a good fucking idea to me,” King grumbles under his breath.
I can’t help but glance his way, and when I find his blue eyes locked on mine and the smirk stretched across his face, something clenches deep within me. He’s had a beyond shitty day, but I’m not going to lie, his courage and strength have really surprised me. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew he was strong, but something has changed within him over the last week. He’s gone from being a broody, no shits given kind of boy, to a fucking relentless, strong, inspiring man.
King winks, and it’s his one silent message letting me know that he’s doing alright, but his wink tells me so much more. It’s him also letting me know that he thinks I’m doing alright. He thinks I can handle this, and he thinks I’m strong enough to face the firing squad and come out on top.
I hate that after the day he’s had, he’s the one giving me encouragement to be able to keep going. It should be the other way around. I should be the one holding him up, but he just can’t help it. Since the moment I first met him, he’s been looking out for me, keeping me safe, and making sure I always have the tools to kick some ass.
With King’s silent encouragement, I turn back just in time to watch as Carver walks back across the room to find his discarded seat, and Harding reluctantly drops his ass back into his. They both look like schoolboys who’ve had their asses handed to them in front of their entire class. But on second thought, isn’t that exactly what happened?
“Right,” I say, keeping my gaze on Harding. “Why don’t you start again and tell me why the hell we’re here, and this time, let’s see if you can do it without insulting me or any of the men around you.”
Harding narrows his eyes on me, and with his tail tucked between his legs, he lets out a shallow sigh. “I’m not sure if you are aware, but since your return in Ravenwood Heights, you’ve been drawing a significant amount of attention to yourself from the Ravenwood Heights police department. They’ve had their eye on you since your DNA was found at the crime scene of your foster parent’s murder.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s bound to happen when people are constantly trying to kill me. I mean,” I say, flicking my gaze around the left-hand side of the table. “If some people weren’t so adamant about taking me out, we probably wouldn’t have this issue.”