Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Just until we’re married.”
“You’re kiddin’, right?” I asked, staring at her.
“We shouldn’t be staying together before we’re married,” she replied stubbornly.
“I think it’s probably a little late for that worry, don’t you?” I barked, looking down at her stomach.
“Otto,” my dad growled. “Knock it off.”
Esther set her taco carefully onto her plate and dropped her hands onto her lap, her face bright red. She didn’t say a word.
“No,” I announced, going back to my food. “You’re stayin’ with me.”
Everyone stared at us, and the table was abnormally quiet while everyone finished their meal. The tension was so high that even Rhett sat quietly.
“I’m home,” Titus called from the front door, slamming it behind him. “Where is everyone?”
“Kitchen,” my dad yelled back. “Where the hell you been? I called you twice.”
“My phone died,” he said, his eyes widening as he noticed all of us at the table. “Did I miss the memo?” His mouth dropped open in shock when he saw Esther. “What the fuck?”
“Language,” I barked.
Rumi laughed, and Nova elbowed him in the side, hissing at him to be quiet.
“You know Esther from school, right?” my mom said dryly. “Her and Otto are getting married.”
“What?” His eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head.
“Hi Titus,” Esther said calmly. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He just stood there, dumbly staring at Esther.
“For fuck’s sake,” my dad grumbled, getting up from his seat. He walked over to my little brother and shoved him toward the kitchen. “Get some food.”
The last half of dinner passed quickly. The tension from Esther and I arguing forgotten, and before long, the women were clearing the table and doing the dishes while the rest of us made our way into the living room.
“How the hell is she here?” Titus hissed, glancing over his shoulder. “What the fuck is going on?”
“You seem to care an awful lot about your brother’s fiancée,” my dad commented easily, staring at Titus.
“I just spent the last hour with her little sister cryin’ on my shoulder because she thought Esther had died in a car accident this morning,” Titus blurted incredulously.
“So that’s the story they’re usin’?” Micky muttered, shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised?”
“How do you know her sister?” Rumi asked, leaning back on the couch with his feet crossed. He looked amused.
“We’re friends,” Titus replied defensively.
“You’re friends?” My dad was not amused.
“She’s younger than me, but we had a class together,” Titus mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face. “They think Esther is dead. Noel’s going to lose it when she finds out Esther’s okay.”
I grit my teeth and inhaled slowly through my nose.
“You can’t tell her.” I reached out and squeezed Titus’ shoulder. “Not a word.”
“What?” His eyes widened in shock as he looked at each of us. “Why the hell not? That’s her sister!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dad replied. “You keep your mouth shut.”
“No fuckin’ way!”
Dad’s hand shot out like a python and gripped Titus’s chin, jerking his face up. “This is nonnegotiable, Titus. You fuckin’ say anythin’ to her sister, you’ll be drinkin’ your cheeseburgers through a straw, got me?”
Titus made a noise in his throat, angrily staring at my dad, but after a moment gave a short nod. When my dad let go of his face, he took a step backward and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Do I get to know what the hell is goin’ on?” he muttered angrily.
I met my dad’s gaze and nodded. While we didn’t usually clue Titus in on club shit, this time we needed to make a bit of an exception. He was clearly connected to what was going on, even if it was a loose connection, and if we were going to ask him to keep his mouth shut, he needed a reason. By the look on his face, Titus was contemplating if telling Noel that her sister was alive might be worth the broken jaw my dad had threatened.
“Esther’s pop is in the Sons of Calgary,” Dad said, watching Titus’s face for any sign of recognition.
“What, the church they go to?” Titus asked, relaxing fractionally.
“Connected to it,” I confirmed. “But the members—”
“The men,” Rumi clarified.
“It’s not just a church, yeah?” I said, nodding at Rumi. “They’re a fuckin’ militia group.”
“No fuckin’ way,” Titus muttered.
“Long story short,” I said, ignoring him. “They stole some shit from the club. Followed some leads and found it out in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.”
“That doesn’t explain,” Titus said, jerking his head toward the kitchen where Esther was helping the women.
“Esther was there. At the cabin.”
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.
“They rigged the shit so when she called for help, the entire cabin would explode,” my dad spat.
Titus choked and jerked his head back in horror.
“So,” I continued. “We’re gonna let them think that their little plan worked. For now.”