Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
He hung up and tossed the phone next to me on the bed. It landed with a soft thump. His eyes never left mine, and I couldn’t look away from him.
I didn’t understand any of this, but I could tell it was affecting him too.
I sucked in some air. I needed a moment. I needed my brain to work once more.
Why was I—my sister. Connor. His club. The reminders landed on me with a hard thud.
“He call you a lot?” Shane sounded disgusted by that thought.
“No.” Which was the funny thing about it. I hated Foley, legit hated him, but he called me after three months of total silence and that was his reception? I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Not really. I had to laugh a little. “I wish I’d been in the room with him when you told him about the guys. He doesn’t know I know about them. He just thinks I know about his foursome.”
Shane’s grin was faint. “You want the names?”
I started to say no, but remembered what Shane had said on the phone. All those names. All those women. He was right. I’d walked with nothing because I wanted nothing to do with Foley. I nodded. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Good.” There was a glint of approval in his eyes, but then the atmosphere shifted again.
The ex was out. Now it was just him and me.
“Why are you here, Shane?”
He didn’t answer right away. “It’s weird hearing that name. I’m VP or Ghost.”
I shook my head. “Not to me.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t look happy about that.
“Shane, why—”
“You can’t see your sister. Not yet.”
A surge of irritation sliced through me. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t know what she’s overheard while she’s been following us around.”
So I was right. “Is it about Connor?”
“We’re a 1% club. Could be anything.”
That made sense. “So when can I see her?”
“After I know she doesn’t have anything to tell you.”
Okay. I was going to try one more time. “What about Con—”
“Stop asking me about your brother. I can’t talk about him.” His voice was gruff, rough. A note of authority rang out. “Who sent you out here?”
I gave him a smirk. “What? You don’t think my own sister might’ve called me?”
He shook his head. “Like I said, I know your sister. Who sent you? Your mom?”
I narrowed my eyes. “If she did? She told me you guys are spreading the word about her bar. You going to rescind that?”
He seemed to consider it. “Maybe I should, if she’s sending her daughter after the other daughter. Your mom’s observant as hell. If you think she sent you after Claudia for Claudia, you’re fooling yourself. She sent you out here because she saw how I reacted to you that night.”
I opened my mouth and clamped it shut. “Why would my mother do that?” I finally asked.
“Who knows with Ruby.” He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna ask her? Share the information with me?”
I repeated what she’d said to me. “Gloves is in prison. She and I are not close. Claudia was it for her. She misses her daughter.”
His phone started going off. He pulled it out and cursed. “I have to take this.” He started for the door. “Don’t come to Frisco. Your sister’s gone. I’ll be in touch when you can talk to her.”
And he was gone.
I was left with an ache inside of me and a ball of fury threatening to fill in the space.
SHANE
I’d thought it might be Maxwell, having heard about Kali’s arrival. It wasn’t.
As soon as I was out of hearing distance, I hit accept. “Stripes.” He wouldn’t call unless there was a reason. He wasn’t like that.
I could hear shouting before his voice came over the phone. “We need you back.”
“What is it?”
“Marco Estrada is here.”
14
SHANE
Even with his cartel’s recently diminished power, Marco Estrada was one of the most powerful men south of the border.
And the entirety of the Red Demon MC helped transport his products throughout the States.
He went through Maxwell for everything, and I wanted to think Stripes had misspoken on the phone a little while ago, but he hadn’t. This could only mean a handful of things, and none of them were good.
I rolled up to the meeting spot, a place outside of Callyspo, near an abandoned store. Weeds grew up through the pavement, but on one end of the lot was a line of Red Demons on their Harleys. I counted all of them except Machete’s. Across the lot were three black SUVs, and as I rolled in, the back door of the middle one opened.
Marco Estrada got out, dressed in a business suit. Tall. Wiry. Dark features.
I parked next to Stripes and turned my back only once. “Prez called?”
I’d tried calling Maxwell on my way over here, but got no answer. Judging from the small shake of Stripes’ head, it was the same response.