Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
One spoke up, “Hey. Whoa. We don’t know you…” He trailed off, looking past my shoulder. A sneer of disgust came over his face. “Monroe, you know better. You and your friends aren’t welcome here. This is our territory.”
I glanced back to see Channing’s face darken with anger. Congo and Moose had stayed in the background, but now they pushed forward. The biker took them in, but his sneer didn’t fade. The other bikers closed in, and one motioned behind him. Five more headed our way.
What is this? I didn’t have patience for this shit. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but my kid is here. Let us get her, and we’ll be out of here.” In the mood I was in, I didn’t give one shit that these guys were probably killers. Sign me the fuck up.
The guy in charge cocked his head to the side. “You look familiar. How do I know you?” His mood changed, an aggressive scowl crossing his face. “I don’t like feeling like I know someone without knowing how I know them. Makes me think you’re a snitch and that’s how I know you.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “You a fucking snitch?”
I matched him scowl for scowl. I didn’t know if I wanted him to recognize me. I wasn’t sure if that would make things better or worse, but another biker joined us. Tall. Built lean. He had long dark hair that hung down his back. His dark eyes flicked with interest, flaring with recognition on Channing before moving over the rest of the group. He lingered on me. His eyebrows pulled together, just briefly before clearing.
“Go get Stripes,” he said. “Let him know some people he might know are here.”
“Boise, let us in. We’re just here for our kids,” Channing said.
The biker he had been talking to turned and pushed past the rest of their group.
Boise moved forward and gave Channing a cool look, shaking his head. “No can do, Monroe. Stripes is the guy in charge here.”
Channing’s eyes went flat. His nostrils flared. He did not like hearing that. “Is he in charge of the whole charter?”
Boise’s eyes grew glacial. “You’d be smart to remember the boundaries. You’re in our territory here.”
Channing’s mouth twisted.
Shouting, cursing, and high-pitched laughter sounded from behind our circle as the fight continued in the ring. The people wanted blood. The thirst for it was in the air. It was damn near intoxicating. I knew it was affecting me. Logan too. He was eyeing the ring with a hunger I’d not witnessed in him for a long time.
“When are you going to need me?” Sam’s soft and knowing question came back to me.
Past patterns for us were mixing with our recent personal trauma. An old rage had awoken inside of me, and it was growing, turning into a fury that shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did. Like an old friend that wasn’t good for me. I’d learned how to curb my anger growing up, but there was some new elements to this anger. There’d been too much change, too much loss.
I was done being a football player. That career forced me to keep myself in check. Marrying Sam and having kids helped reinforce my walls of control, but none of it seemed enough right now. I gritted my teeth as the urge to reach out, take one of the bikers’s heads in my hands, and pull increased in me.
It wasn’t a feeling I wanted, but at the same time, I’d missed it too.
“Monroe,” a new voice said.
This must be Stripes. His men all stepped back.
Dark hair. He had a younger looking face, but it was a face that would always look young. His eyes told a different story. They were dark and hardened. Smart. There was an extra sense around him. It made me give him a second look. All the bikers were dangerous and deadly, but this one had more to him. I wasn’t sure what I was picking up, but a sixth sense told me to be cautious with him. His eyes lit up when they found Channing, then shifted to share a look with Boise.
I couldn’t read whatever they were expressing to each other.
Without saying a word to each other, Boise moved off into the warehouse again.
Stripes faced Channing, a smug smirk on his face, but it was a mask. Saw through it. I just couldn’t see what it was covering. He said, “I thought we had an agreement. I stay out of Fallen Crest, and you don’t come to our territories. Prez hasn’t reached out. There’s no warrants for our guys. You got no reason to be here.”
Channing growled. “I’ve adhered to that protocol. We’re not here for that.”
Stripes’s chin rose and his shoulders squared back. “This is my fighting ring. I run it. If you were anyone else, I’d say you’d have to put up or shut up. You hand over your phone and you either fight or put money down. Those are the rules for stepping inside.”