Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Ace frowns. “Based on what?”
“I don’t know. They weren’t young assholes. They were, I don’t know, focused and disciplined. Well-coordinated. Almost like a military unit or some shit. I can’t put my finger on it since that shit went down so fast, but it’s just a feeling I get.” And that shot that hit Willow? It wasn’t a lucky shot. It was done on purpose.
“Shit.” Ace shakes his head, and Dix drops a supportive hand on my shoulder. “We already have too many balls in the air. We need to prioritize the threats, starting with Nogales. Then we can focus on our new enemies.”
“Whoever the fuck they are,” Shades says, but I have a feeling we all know who this new enemy is.
We all nod our agreement, knowing that we don’t have time to guess whether or not it’s Los Tres Colombianos or someone else. Right now, it doesn’t matter. We need to fuck up the Iron Kings first.
I take all of my anger and frustration out on the Kings, first with the motherfucker in The Chamber. I didn’t give that loser a chance to speak before I blew his head off.
Good riddance, I say. He was useless anyway.
The next few days, we go after everything that remains of the Iron Kings. We attack every property, commercial or residential, owned by anyone who is or has ever been a member of the Iron Kings.
We torch their shit to the ground, take over their whorehouses, their shipping containers, their bars. Everything.
We show no fucking mercy as we tear through everything that matters to them. If Nogales refuses to show his face, fine. Let him come after us. What’s he gonna use as a weapon?
I don’t sleep or eat for seven straight fucking days. If I’m not visiting Willow and holding her hand, I’m out in the streets hunting for anything Iron Kings.
My goal is simple. To hurt Nogales as much as I hurt over Willow. She’s still unconscious, still hooked up to machines that help her breathe and eat. Until she opens those pretty blue eyes; I’ll burn down the whole fucking world.
Just watch me.
Chapter Nineteen
Willow
I’m not awake. I can’t open my eyes. Can’t speak. Not sure I can feel anything.
But the incessant chirping and beeping and whizzing of the machines around me tell me that I’m in the last place I want to be.
A hospital.
I think about Mom and how she’ll survive without me. Will she have to move? Will she be able to take care of herself?
Then I hear Joaquin’s deep voice. “How is she?” he says, and I will my eyes to open, but they won’t. I’m desperate to see his handsome face, to ask why he’s here at my side.
But I can’t.
A nurse sighs. “She’s doing better, but her fever is up. It might be an infection, possibly a bullet fragment still in there. We don’t know yet, but the doctor will be in soon.”
“Is she in any pain?”
My heart swoons at the question and concern in his voice. My thoughts turn to Joaquin and to me, to us, really. Things were just starting to get good between us, and now? If the nurse is being honest, I’m going to die. I’ll die before I tell Joaquin that I love him.
There are so many things I want to do with my life, and it seems as if now I’ll never get the chance. I feel the urge to cry, only I can’t. I can’t do anything. Just lie here and listen to people talk about me.
I’m getting hotter and feel delirious as if something is wrong. I squeeze my eyes tighter and use every ounce of willpower I have to move my mouth.
“I’m here! I’m right here!” I shout as loud as I can, but nothing comes out. Instead, I try to kick my legs and arms around to get Joaquin’s attention.
Again nothing.
Fucking nothing.
“It’s gonna be all right, Will,” Joaquin begins. “I’ll find those fuckers and make them pay.” His hand lands on top of mine, and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
I smile in my mind and lean into the touch. I try to squeeze his hand, but I can’t, and that makes me furious. And scared.
Scared I’ll never come out of this abnormal state. Scared I won’t ever be able to talk or move again.
As the fever takes over and my body gets hotter, I feel my mind floating from my body as noise fills the hospital room.
I pull away, leave the room, and let myself dream about what things would have been like between Joaquin and me. What would things look like with me as a biker’s girlfriend? Especially with a guy like Joaquin, who is rough around the edges but sweet as fuck. Sweeter than I even knew men could be, despite being tough as hell.