It Ain’t Me, Babe Read Online Tillie Cole (Hades Hangmen #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Hades Hangmen Series by Tillie Cole
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 115933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
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We traveled far and many hours passed. I did not know where we were, but with every inch of new road, I let myself relax. I was tired and, to my happiness, my leg no longer hurt. It was completely numb and I was sleepy. I fought with my eyes to remain open and when I knew I could not keep consciousness too much longer, it was time to make my move.

“Please stop,” I urged, pressing my palms against the large pane of window glass. My eyes searched the barren outside area for a place to take refuge. I sighed in relief when I spotted a square gray building set way back off the main road. I could take shelter there… hide there… rest there, until I regained strength enough to continue on with my journey.

The woman slowed the vehicle and shook her head. “Hell no! I’m not leaving you here! Downtown’s still quite far ahead. A girl like you don’t belong in a place like that. It’s dangerous. Filled with bad, bad folks. Do you even know what this place is?”

My vision became blurred and tunneled, threatening to move to black. “My friend is here. She is waiting,” I said in panic, the deception coming surprisingly easy to my lips.

The vehicle suddenly pulled onto the crunching gravel and jerked to a stop. “You have friends here?” Her voice was filled with shock.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t take you for one of those girls. I guess the devil comes in many forms. Kinda explains the state you’re in. S’pose they all decided to teach you a lesson, huh? Dumped you and left you to make your own way home? And here you are, crawling bloodied and bruised back into the den of evil.”

I did not understand her meaning. Who were those girls? I pushed open the door and fell down to the hard ground without another word. I needed to hide. I just needed to muster the strength to take a few more steps.

With a loud hiss, the large vehicle crawled away into the distance as I staggered down the long road toward the far-off building. It was vast, imposing, and fenced in. But most importantly, it was near and the heavy-looking tall gate was open just enough so I could squeeze through.

I made it through, my sight fading fast. I knew I could not go on anymore. My energies exhausted, I lay down on the rough, hard ground behind a row of large, wide containers and I submitted to the urgings of my eyelids for sleep. The last image I saw as I glanced up was… Satan… painted on the wall of the building opposite. He sat on a grand throne with a blue-eyed female by his side.

Startled awake, I shook in panic at the image, echoing the words of the lady who drove the large vehicle. Where the hell am I?

Soon after, no longer able to fight sleep, one final thought filtered into my mind as I slid into unconsciousness: There is nothing on the outside but deceit, sin and death…

Chapter Two

Styx

Crashing through the doors of the compound, I was seething. Several club sluts scattered outta my way—wise move.

Bursting through the door of my office I paused at the nearest wall, my hands slapping against the cement. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, carefully thinking over my words. I couldn’t lose it in front of the brothers.

My VP and best friend, Ky, quietly closed the door behind me, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor. Turning to face him, he nodded his head to signal we were alone. I expelled a long, frustrated breath.

“F-fuckin’ Di… Di… Di-Diablo s-s-s-scum!” I manage to push out of my damn defective mouth.

Ky stared at me, no expression in his eyes. He walked to the bar and poured me a bourbon—he knew the routine. Holding out a full glass of source, Ky supplied my kinda medicine. I knocked the liquor back in one practiced action… then another… and another still. At last, I felt it loosen, the ever-present rope choking the fuck out of my throat.

“More?” Ky stood ready at the bar, Jim Beam bottle in hand.

Clearing my throat, I tested that shit out. “I… I… I… I—”

Shit! Waving my hand, I signaled my VP for another shot… and another… and just one more to be sure.

His blond eyebrows rose, silently asking if I needed more.

“It… it… it’s better,” I said, expelling a sigh of relief. The room was kinda spinning, but at least the fuckin’ python wrapped around my vocal cords had decided to catch forty.

“K-Ky you better get to the b-bottom of this… sh… sh… shit or we go… to war, you hear? I-I’m ’bout done with the whole lot… lot… lotta ’em!”

Ky’s expression changed. He went as white as a damned ghost and lifted his hands for emphasis. “Styx, man. I swear we had it all worked out. Some fucker cut the deal behind our backs.” This fucked-up run had been his deal and it was clear he had no idea what the hell’d gone wrong.

Rubbing one hand across my forehead, I pointed with the other to church. Ky nodded his head, getting my instruction.

Reaching for the half bottle of Jim, I drank directly from it, feeling the burn of its fiery liquid down my throat.

Ky took off to gather the brothers, giving me time to pull it together. As I paced the floor of my office, I knew Ky was telling the truth. The fuckin’ Diablos. It had to be the Diablos! How can a deal made with the Russians after months of talk just turn to shit in a few days?

Someone sold us out; it was the only explanation. And some asshole will die for it!

I left my office and entered church, still pouring the hard brown liquor down my throat. It helped the words flow more easily. Those fuckin’ just-out-of-reach words that stuck in my throat, never wanting to play ball.

The brothers quickly filled the room, tension leaking from their pores as they stared at me, in fear. They should. I was ’bout ready to tear someone a new asshole. I smelled a rat. A rat in my own fuckin’ brotherhood. My old man would be turning in his stone-cold grave. No one turns coat on a brother. Well, no one who wants to live a long and pain-free life.


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