Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“No clue. I don’t fucking know, and I don’t really care since the bitch shot me.”
His words make me smile. Cassidy is a fighter, and I know she’ll fight as much as she can for as long as she can. But knowing what I know of Ghost, she doesn’t have long. I need to find her, and we don’t have time to waste.
“Wrong answer,” I tell him, finally checking back into the conversation. “Try again.”
“Look, man, I don’t fucking know, okay?”
I shake my head, hands balling into fists and then stretching out to flex. “One more time,” I say and rinse my hands in the sink. Then I yank out two rubber gloves from the box on the wall and put them on.
“What are you going to do?” the guy asks, and I pull out one of the pillows that prop him up from the stack.
“You want to give me something I can use?”
He shrugs. “Can’t give you what I don’t know.”
“Too bad.” I place the pillow over his face, holding the edges down so the whole damn thing covers him. He barely flails, thanks to the pain from his gunshot, but his arms twitch, and his legs squirm.
One minute passes. Two minutes. He’s still fighting the inevitable, and I let him because watching him suffer, watching him fight it, knowing he’ll lose is the only goddamn thing making me feel better about all of this.
Ghost has Cassidy, and this motherfucker is going to die.
“I think he’s gone, man.” Dix reaches out to touch my shoulder, and I blink.
“Yeah. Right. Good. Fuck him.” I remove the pillow to find a blank stare on his face, mouth wide open. I tuck the pillow behind him and wipe down everything I’ve touched with a sigh.
“Feel better?”
“Fuck no. We have to find Cassidy,” I say as we open the door, looking left and then right to make sure the coast is clear as we get the fuck out of the hospital. I pull off the gloves and stuff them into my pocket, walking across the parking lot to our bikes. “It doesn’t make sense that they took her or even fucking saw her. She was barely at Morgan.”
“You spent time with her,” he says. “It’s not farfetched to think they’ve been watching us all.” He pulls out his phone and dials. “Wild Man, check on surveillance around the clubhouse and Morgan.”
“What am I looking for?” he asks.
“I want to know if the BTD or Latin Mafia have been watching us more than we realized.”
“I’ll hit you back when I find something,” he says and ends the call.
“Let’s go back and search the truck, see what else we can find. Sound good?”
“Where is it? I thought Shades sent a driver?”
“He did, for the trailer. The cab is still on the side of the freeway. Let’s go.”
We take off on the freeway and head to Cassidy’s truck. I use my slick criminal skills to get inside and open the side door for Dix. After a few minutes of searching, Dix says, “Diesel, check this out.”
“You find something?” I say and poke my head into the front of the cab. “What you got? There ain’t shit back here.”
He points to the camera mounted on the dashboard. “Your girl has video in here,” he grins. “Too bad I don’t know shit about how to watch it.”
“Fucking old man,” I say with a smile as I remove the camera from the dashboard mount. “You can play it right on here if you need to, but I’m sure she has storage somewhere in here or to her cloud service.”
“The image isn’t bad, but I can’t see shit,” Dix grunts.
“It’s enough,” I say, pointing to the shadow of the flashing lights that caused Cassidy to pull over. Her face is as calm as any other person being pulled over by the cops. At first. But her dark brows dip into a frown as she glances out her side mirror. I see the moment she realizes that these aren’t police. “Good girl,” I whisper when she reaches for her gun, talking to herself to remain calm.
“Smart,” Dix says just as the door right beside me opens, and the asshole from the hospital says, “Hey.” Not a second later, a gunshot rings out, followed by a grunt.
Cassidy struggles when her door opens, cursing up a storm as she fights with someone out of the camera’s view.
“Bitch!”
I sit up straight and look at Dix. “Ghost. That voice belongs to that fucking blond-headed asshole.”
Dix nods. “Don’t know the other voice, but that whiny little bitch voice definitely belongs to Ghost.”
Which confirms it: Ghost has Cassidy. The Bloodthirsty Devils have her. “Fuck!”
“Come on, man, we need to head back.”
I nod, taking a minute to get my shit under control before I grab her backpack and some other things still in the cab. I’m actually surprised at how much is still in here.