Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Milo, one of the original bouncers here at Absolution, the guy more family than employee, stood guard at the door.
If Jud was a giant, this motherfucker was a goliath. Covered in tats and scary as fuck.
Dude rarely said a word, his demeanor quiet and subdued, though I was pretty sure he would take a bullet if it was required. God knew the number of pricks he tossed to the curb on a nightly basis.
“Logan, Sir, how are you tonight?”
“Same ol’, same ol’.”
I didn’t see the point in telling him I itched. That I’d had one drink with my brothers and the only thing I could think about was getting back to my apartment.
To see that she was there. Whole.
“That’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
He opened the door. “You have a good night. Be safe out there.”
“I plan on it,” I said as I stepped out into the fat tufts of snowflakes that flitted from the sky, and I stuffed my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill. Rays of glinting lights streaked through the frosty, damp air, the snowflakes falling in a slow cascade, casting the lot in a globe of white.
Absolution was set in an old warehouse on the industrial side of town. Most everything within a five-mile radius was locked-up tight for the night except for the chaos that roiled within its walls.
The lot was deserted, and the sound of the band and voices seeped through the bricks and vibrated the ground. I moved over close to where I’d parked my car before I glanced around to make sure I was alone. When I found that I was, I blew out some of the tension, leaned against the wall in the shadows, and dug into my pocket to pull out my phone.
I dialed the number then pressed it to my ear.
It rang three times before the groggy voice answered, “What the hell, it’s almost two in the morning.”
“Calling in that debt, Dean.”
Dude owed me after not making good on a lost bet—I’d figured his connections might serve to be more valuable than the hundred-grand he’d lost.
I might play hard, but I played smart.
Rustling echoed from the other end of the line, and I heard a door snap shut before he exhaled heavily when he shut another. “What is it you need?”
“Information.”
“On who?”
“I want everything you can get on a man named Jarek Urso.”
I could tell he was fumbling around on his desk to find something to write on.
“U-r-s-o. Los Angeles,” I continued. “Birthdate is May 12, 1993.”
“And what do you want to know?”
“Everything. Everything he owns. Every investment. Every connection. Every sin he’s committed and every debt he owes. Where he puts his dick and where he dips his dirty fingers.”
It wasn’t like a man like that would stay faithful.
Air puffed through the line. “And what do you want with this guy?”
“What do you think?”
Reservations left him on a strained sigh. “Why do I get the feeling I would have fared better giving you the deed to my house?”
“Don’t worry yourself, Dean. It’s off the books.”
Off the books was what I did.
“Right,” he grunted.
“Just get me what I need.”
“I’ll get everything I can. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“As if I have another choice.”
He hung up without saying anything else. I tucked my phone into my pocket and moved to my car, started it, put my hands to the vents and welcomed the heat. I tried to gather my emotions before I headed back to my apartment where I’d lived for the last year.
I rubbed my hands over my face like it could break up the disorder. Give me some clarity.
I didn’t know if I saw the flash of darkness or felt it.
The depravity that curled through the air.
I dropped my hands and peered into the hazy white light where the vapid shadows hovered like an army of wraiths at the edge of the lot.
I swore I saw something.
A shift.
A shape.
I didn’t know, but the only thing I could do was open my car door and climb out into the soft fall of snow.
A feeling took me over.
Possession.
The need to protect.
I saw it.
A silhouette that disappeared around the side of the building.
“Hey!” I shouted, “Hey, stay right the fuck there.”
I took off in that direction.
A gust of wind howled through the evergreens, swishing and churning through the towering spikes that touched the heavens, and I thought I heard the clatter of footsteps retreating in the distance.
I hustled along the side of the brick building in the direction of the disturbance. It was chaotic. An upheaval that shuddered in the frozen air.
I ran headlong into it, overcome by the need to hunt down any fucker who would do her harm. Hurt her. Stop it in its tracks if we were being hunted.
I rounded the corner only for that whooshing in the trees to become the air whooshing from my lungs when a rod slammed into my stomach.