Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“And you didn’t see a truck, by chance? In passing? Anything that might help us?” He smiles.
“Nah, when we left, Sergei and Alex were laughing and drinking vodka. I offered them a toke, but they declined.” Axel lights up a cigarette, his eyes narrowing on Boris who continues to stay focused on me yet speaks to Axel.
“Ah yes, Alex and Sergei like vodka, but then who doesn’t? Besides pussy and money, what could be better?” He smiles as his group of sweatsuits behind him laugh.
“Unfortunately, we are in somewhat… how do you say?” He looks back at his guys. “In a predicament—that’s the word. See, Sergei, Ivan, and Alex, along with the truck filled with the precious cargo, have vanished. That cargo was worth a lot of money. Also, we worry for our Sergei, Alex, and Ivan. Their families are concerned.” He looks at Blade, then back at me as if that is going to tell him anything.
“We do go way back, Boris. So my advice is to track their asses, not come around here unannounced.”
Boris slowly turns to face Blade, his right eye twitching.
I smile and cross my arms. The thing about the Russians is they let the booze and greed get in their way. Don’t get me wrong; they’re scary motherfuckers. They’ve got nothing to lose, which makes them dangerous. But we’ve got nothing to lose too. That, and we don’t make our money selling and raping women and children.
“It’s late.” Blade leans across the table to grab a bottle of Wild Turkey, the cracking of the seal the only sound in the room.
“You let me know if Misha can’t keep our appointed time next week.” He brings the bottle to his lips as someone knocks on the door. “Enter.” Blade’s eyes stay focused on Boris.
Tracker comes in, the sound of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling into the room.
“You have party?” Boris motions to the door.
Axel snorts. “I’d ask you to stay, but sometimes you get… how do you say… fucking aggressive.” Is it disrespectful? Yeah, but Axel doesn’t care.
Boris looks at him as I move to stand behind him. Smiling, Boris backs away.
“I never remembered you not liking to share, Axel.” He turns and bows at him. “Maybe another time. I just remembered we need to talk to the Chinese.”
“Good idea. You be sure to give our best to V,” Axel says.
Nobody says more as they saunter to the door, then pause dramatically like that’s gonna scare us. I’m ready to put bullets in all their heads and bury them with the other Russians. Tracker shuts the door and I sit and reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey.
“Get Ox,” Blade demands.
Tracker nods as Axel turns on the monitors. I’ve beefed up our security. We have cameras installed almost everywhere. I should be the one making sure they leave, yet all I can think about is that she’s gone. I should be thankful. The clubhouse is not a place for her. Boris and his piece-of-shit posse showing up are just a nice reminder. We’re the most feared and largest MC in the West. Not because we’re lucky, but because we don’t let anything slip. We have no weaknesses.
And that sets you free, makes you powerful. Keeps the rats at bay.
This Russian ordeal was messy, but what little of my soul is left couldn’t let them live. Something in me snapped. That truck wasn’t supposed to be there if the look on Ivan’s face was any indication. I knew what was in the back. It’s not like we don’t know that the Russians are involved in trafficking.
But for some reason, seeing it made me lose my shit. Even with Edge telling me we should walk away. He was right, but as soon as they opened the back of the truck, all of us were done. There were at least twenty women and children bound, scared, and beaten.
I saw red.
Edge called the Feds, leaving an anonymous tip where they could find the truck as Axel and I buried the Russian pigs.
Just more corpses, more ghosts, that will one day come and talk to me in my sleep. But tonight… tonight, I’m gonna get fucked up, purge myself of my sins.
Axel grabs the bottle from me as the room comes into focus. You can feel it. Our combined energy is not good, weighted down, heavy with the last few weeks.
We need to rage, release the poisons. I’m gonna wait for Ox first. No pussy until he’s swept the whole room and property. Then I’ll relax.
Flashes of honey-streaked hair and plump lips that haunt me run through my head. Christ, she’s gone. I need to stop now.
Julianna.
The source of my strange fixation has left. The Russians are a headache but easily dealt with. She, on the other hand, has been a frustration bordering on torture.