Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“I’ll have the security team park in your driveway and station them in the backyard.” Simon sighs. “Get here and get whatever the fuck this is out of my driveway.”
I want to argue, but I can feel the tension dripping through the phone. It also wouldn’t hurt to pick his brain a bit. Maybe he can see the piece that’s been nagging at the back of my brain.
“How big is the crate?” I ask.
“It’s eight feet long,” Simon says with a huff. “I’ll have Johnathan come get you with his pickup truck.”
Pushing the disconnect button on the phone, I frown down at the screen. I don’t fucking like being taken away from my family. But it was bound to happen, regardless of my desires. I’m just not ready to be separated from them.
Moving back upstairs to get dressed, I feel a weight on my shoulders.
The real world is coming back into focus, and I can feel the weight of too many hidden threats.
When I was alone it was so much easier to move through the world. I could be and do anything I wanted before Eden and Abel came into my life.
Now I must always be vigilant.
Because one slip and I’d leave them for good. I only have to fuck up once, whereas my enemies just have to keep trying.
Enemies. I need to find out who they are, eliminate them, and leave enough carnage that whoever the fuck thinks of coming for me again doesn’t.
Johnathan gives me an evil glare when I pull myself into his pickup truck.
“What the fuck did you do?” he asks with a grunt.
“Truly, I have no idea.” I grin and take a good look at his disheveled features. “I take it Simon snapped at you like he did me?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, but he told me I had to help you, and that means you cut off my morning happy time with Beth. Fucking asshole.”
Looking at him, I still wonder at times about the sudden change between Simon and him. It’s fucking off-putting. Once they were like oil and water, and now they’re… what? Vinegar and piss?
The jokes and ribbing are still there, but there’s a different tone to them.
Raising my hands up in supplication, I say, “I haven’t a clue what has been shipped to me, but it’s bound to be interesting coming from the Royal Bastards.”
Johnathan frowns at me for a moment before turning back to the road. “You being cozy with them ain’t exactly gonna put you on Simon’s good side. He doesn’t do bikers.”
There’s the opening I was hoping he would give me.
Nodding, I say, “True, but that no longer seems to apply to you.”
He shrugs his shoulders.
“No comment?” I ask him as I look out the front window. “Nothing to say about mortal enemies becoming friends?”
“Fuck off,” Johnathan grunts. “Shit changes all the time, just happens.”
“Is it something that I will need to worry about?”
“No,” Johnathan says quick enough that I know it’s the truth. “We came to an understanding, and that’s all there is to it.”
I could push him harder on it, but I’ll let it rest for now.
“Let me ask you something else then,” I say and try to formulate my thoughts.
“What?”
“The Russians found me quickly. I’m almost positive they had me the moment I got close to the freeway. But I’m thinking they had me the moment I pulled out of the housing complex.”
A strange sensation crawls up my spine.
“How?” Johnathan asks. “Think they were tracking you? It’s damn coincidental that Eden lived there and they knew the moment you left.”
“I didn’t spot the tail until the freeway, and they were coming in hard and fast with ill intentions,” I say, remembering the chase. “They were following me close enough I didn’t shake them. Granted, I didn’t try hard, but something doesn’t feel right.”
“I ain’t saying we’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out, but let it simmer in the back of your head. Something’s there, I can feel it, too.”
Nodding my head, I know that’s more than likely going to be the only way to scratch this nagging itch.
But it rankles me to no end.
Little demons want to crawl out of my skin and scream in frustration over all of this.
The rest of the drive is made in what I can only call companionable silence.
Except for the voices screeching in my head to get home to Eden.
They beg for the sweet bliss of her presence, but swear dirty oaths at me when I ignore them.
Pulling up into the driveway of Simon’s house, I get the sudden feeling I’m about to ruin the poor man’s day.
When I see the shipping crate sitting in his driveway, I know what’s inside of it, and I just simmer with glee at the thought of his face when I reveal its contents.