Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
That’s a big risk, going against them like that.
He told me that they will think he is betraying them, or going behind their backs, so they’re looking for him. Once he gets what he wants from me, then he’ll try to mend fences, but he was tired of the, as I quote, “chasing tails” that they were doing trying to locate me, my mother, or Marek. Mex takes action, I respect that. I’m the same. I don’t like to wait for other people; I like to get things done.
“I know you’re fuckin’ in there, Mex. Open the fuckin’ door before I kick it down.”
The angry male voice is followed by another round of pounding. Mex is awake now, and he jerks upright in bed, his eyes sleepy as he starts to process what’s going on. The banging gets louder, and I know whoever is outside is attempting to kick the door down.
“Fuck,” Mex hisses. “Fuck. They weren’t meant to find me yet.”
Oh, these are club members.
“Is this bad?” I question.
“It’s fuckin’ bad. It means they’ve figured out what I’m doin’. I was hopin’ to have a plan together. This will fuckin’ ruin everything. Get up.”
Jerking me, Mex pulls us both out of the bed. I stumble as I try to scurry after him when he drags me toward his bag and digs around. After a moment, he comes out with the keys to the cuffs and undoes them. It’s then an idea pops into my brain. If the club thinks I took Mex, it’ll get him off the hook and, not only that, it’ll get him to trust me. Once he trusts me, he’ll let me in, and I’ll be able to get the answers I’m seeking.
“I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I have an idea.”
Mex pauses as the banging gets louder. Multiple voices can be heard barking his name from the other side.
“You’re right, I don’t trust you.”
“Looks to me like you’re running out of options right now. I can get you out of this.”
The door cracks as the kicks get harder.
Mex’s jaw flexes.
“I’m listenin’...”
“I don’t have time to explain, you’ll just have to go with it. Give me those cuffs.”
Mex tosses me the cuffs, and I slap one around his wrist before pulling his hands behind his back and cuffing him. He gives me a look that tells me he isn’t a fan of this, but I guess he figures I can’t run anyway with all of those bikers outside. There is nowhere for me to go. I reach down and take Mex’s gun out of his bag; I already saw him put it in there the day before.
Another kick has the door flying open.
I point the gun at Mex and watch as three bikers step into the room. The moment they see me with the gun pointed at Mex, they’re moving quickly. They reach for their own guns, but I growl at them to stop before they can. The man at the front, the one I’ve met before, his name is Western. He is the President of the club. Behind him is his father, Colt, and another biker I don’t know the name of.
“Touch your guns and I’ll shoot him,” I warn.
“You fuckin’ shoot him, I’ll blow your head clean off your shoulders,” Western throws back, his voice like ice.
I give him a cold smile. “You won’t have the chance to get your gun out before I put a bullet through you, biker. I’m a fantastic shot.”
“What the fuck are you doin’ with him?”
“Well, your boy here was on the hunt for me, but I found out and got in first. I don’t like being tracked down like a dog, and I don’t like when people try to take me. I’ve been having a great time with him.” I smirk. “He’s a feisty one.”
Mex gives me a look that makes me want to burst out laughing, because he’s less than impressed at my statement. Still, the expression he gives me only makes it that much more believable, and it appears the three bikers in front of me believe my little story, because the next words that leave Western’s mouth are the ones I want to hear.
“What do you want?”
I give him a casual expression and shrug my shoulders. “Nothing. But if you want your biker back alive, you’re going to have to lay off the hunting and tracking. I don’t like it.”
“You fucked over my club,” Western growls, his eyes scarily empty. “I don’t take kindly to that.”
“And I don’t take kindly to people getting in my business. Now what’s it going to be, biker? Are you going to back off or am I going to bring your friend down?”
I have no intention of either happening. In fact, I want them to take me, so I ensure I give Mex the chance to take me out – so when Colt moves, I spin the gun toward him. He barely moved, but it’s a good enough reason for me to move the gun away from Mex. As predicted, he moves quickly, slamming his body into mine. I trip and stumble to the ground, landing on my hands and knees. Within seconds a huge body lands on top of mine and my hands are jerked behind my back.