Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Story?
With trembling fingers, I pick up the newspaper. Front and center on the states biggest sourced paper, is Western’s face. The face of a young man who was sent to prison for something he didn’t do. A young man who is staring at the camera, his face blank, his eyes expressionless. I’ve come to know those eyes so well.
New information uncovered reveals young bikers’ innocence
No.
No.
No.
This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. I flip to the story and even as my eyes move over my own words, I know I didn’t release it. Things have been changed, the story calling out the highest forms of law enforcement, Bill Whart, and everyone else who might possibly be involved in a human trafficking scheme that they used Western to cover up. It’s bad. It’s so damned bad. This kind of thing is going to cause problems that the club won’t be able to fix.
I didn’t release it.
I look up to Hazel, who is shaking her head.
“I didn’t do this,” I say, my voice croaky.
“Really. So, you’re not a journalist?”
“I am, but I didn’t release this.”
Shaking her head, she turns and walks out.
Frantically, I reach for my phone, which has been on silent mode. Pete has been calling, over and over. I quickly dial his number, wanting to know how the hell this happened.
“Pete,” I say, when it picks up. “What the hell?”
“You saw the story,” he says, his voice tight. “I don’t know how it leaked, Bonnie. I didn’t do this.”
Shaking my head in confusion, I try to settle my racing heart. “This is so bad. It’s not only dangerous for the club, but for me. My name is all over this. Those people of power are going to come after me. Someone did this and I want to know who.”
“I’m working on finding out how it got into that newspaper’s hands. I promise you I’ll get to the bottom of it. For now, I’m trying to have it removed.”
“It’s too late,” I say, tears burning under my eyelids. “It’s out there.”
I finish up with Pete promising to get me some answers.
I dial Western, needing to know if he has seen it.
He doesn’t answer.
I dial again and again.
No answer.
I have to get over there. I need to explain this to him. I need to do something to try and fix this horrible mess.
Getting out of my bed, I call in a nurse and tell her I need to leave. I explain it’s an emergency and either she lets me go, or I’ll walk on my own. A few papers and a doctors visit later, I have the all clear to leave. I don’t waste a single second rushing out of the hospital, even though my head is still pounding. I call a cab and when I’m inside, I stare down at the paper in my hands.
This is the worst possible thing that could ever happen.
Bill Whart is going to come after me.
The police officers involved are going to come after me.
The town is going to go into an uproar.
It’s going to be utter chaos.
Arriving at the club, I get out of the cab and toss him some money before taking my small bag and rushing to the front gates of the club, which are securely locked. Two bikers are standing by those gates, and when their eyes fall on me, they harden.
They know.
God dammit, they know.
“You’re not welcome here. If you have any sense about you, you’ll fuckin’ leave before you get a bullet put through your skull.”
Fear grips my chest as I curl my fingers around the wire mesh and lean in close. “I didn’t do that. I swear I didn’t. Please. I need to talk to Western. Please.”
“Western has made it very clear that if you step foot on these grounds, we are to take you out. Now, because you’re a woman, we’re not goin’ to do that, but I promise you, if you push your luck, you’ll find yourself six feet under.”
Oh my god.
They wouldn’t.
Surely, they wouldn’t.
Not caring in this moment, I take a deep breath and scream. “Western!”
One of the bikers, Jerry, I think his name is, pulls out a gun and walks over, shoving it through the mesh and pressing it to my forehead. I freeze, the air in my lungs being sucked out as it feels as though the world stops spinning.
“I won’t tell you again.”
“You want to shoot me?” I say, my entire body shaking. “Fucking shoot me. I’m not leaving. Go on, do it! Do it!”
I’m screaming now, my voice cracking.
“Western,” I scream again.
A minute later, Western exits the club house. I’ve seen his face expressionless before, but I’ve never seen him look at me with such vile hatred. He looks as though he couldn’t care if the gun to my head right now went off and killed me right in front of him. That hurts, it rips me to my very core. I know I fucked up, but I was never going to release that story.