Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Rob.”
Chapter 21 – Dane
Terror sank its icy roots into Dane’s flesh, squeezing his arteries and getting ever closer to his heart.
What the hell had happened? The motorcycle club stated that Rob was away on club business, which was why their outing had been a possibility in the first place.
A terrible thought drilled its way into his brain: had they been deceived? Had the MC alerted Rob so he could come back and finish what he’d started?
He could barely smell the rotting food, and instead kept inhaling the ozone-like odor of fear as he folded in half with his back to the outer wall of the building, and his side pressed to the waste container stained with dust and a brown residue Dane didn’t want to identify. His thoughts were solely on Rob, who now knew Dane had survived and surely had already crept closer with his gun out.
A chill tightened around his heart when the alleyway resonated with a melodic whistle, the same one Rob had uttered when he was taking a moment’s rest from beating Dane into a pulp.
Air was everywhere, but Dane couldn’t suck in any of it, slowly suffocating in paralyzing fear. But Jag muttered something, and when Dane glanced his way, his mate’s strong, wiry form rose, as if he thought he was made of lead, not flesh.
Dane tried to grab at his sleeve and keep him confined to the shadows, but his hands were stiff like bundles of sticks and slid right off the fabric. His man stood to face Rob as if this was a showdown at midday in some corny western movie, not an unarmed man going against a biker who had no qualms when it came to killing.
Dane’s thoughts ran so hot his brain sizzled, refusing to provide a way out of this. Memories of being beaten half to death mingled with terror over Jag’s safety, yet he couldn’t move a muscle.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The very sound of that low, raspy voice, which used to send chills of arousal and fear down Dane’s back had him stiffening. Rob sounded decisive and had come to get rid of whatever obstacle life had thrown his way. He would kill Jag without batting an eye, yet Dane’s limbs froze, and his voice died somewhere in his throat, swelling until it made his neck pulse with pain. He couldn’t move.
"I'm your worst nightmare," Jag said through clenched teeth and lowered his head like a wolf on the prowl.
Rob shot.
Dane had to cover his ears and bite his cheek not to scream out, but was instantly ashamed of his own fear, because Jag was in danger because of him.
Instead of cowering like any normal person would, Jag dodged the bullet with a slide to the opposite wall. With the grace of a wild cat, he leaped on an overturned bucket, then a tall wooden crate, and dashed up, grabbing the fire escape ladder hanging high above the ground. The momentum swung him toward Rob, who must have been too confused to use the gun in his hand. Finally freed from his paralysis, Dane leaned forward just as Jag swung on the ladder and locked his thighs around Rob’s neck. They toppled under his weight and descended to the asphalt with a loud thud.
A woman shrieked somewhere in the street, and her shrill voice was like a bucket of hot water poured over Dane’s frozen body. He got to his knees when a passing car illuminated the darkness, presenting Dane with the view of Jag’s slender form perched on top of Rob’s more sizeable bulk and smashing his fist down.
A part of Dane feared the gun might fire again, taking off half of Jag’s handsome face, but then Rob attempted to fight back, and both his hands came up empty.
“You’re gonna regret this you freak,” Rob hollered, and his bloodied spittle glistened in the moonlight like tiny bugs. He tried to push Jag off with his elbow, and while Dane didn’t expect it to work, Jag grunted in pain. As brave and strong as he was, Jag wasn’t superhuman and was in fact still recovering from the injury Dane had caused.
“No I won’t! You will regret you were ever born!” Jag screamed back at him as he fell to the side.
Rob spun around with blood staining the lower half of his face so it resembled a massive mouth full of teeth. Dane wanted to back away into the shadow, terrified of the violence, but then his gaze settled on the black shape resting in a bed of broken glass.
It was the gun.
He might’ve been afraid of Rob but couldn’t let the bastard get the firearm and was about to reveal himself when Jag pounced at Rob despite heaving in pain.
“Fight me like a man!” Jag yelled. “Not so tough against another predator, are you?”