Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Smokey reached for April’s phone and snatched it off the charger, knowing if Capone would answer anyone’s call while he was radio silent, it would be April’s. He promised her he would always answer if she called, and I knew that no matter what he might be in the middle of, he would.
Because for her—and only for her—we ran by a different set of codes.
Smokey put the phone on speaker, and I waited with bated breath, gently rocking our woman as the phone rang. If he didn’t answer, there was a chance she’d fucking lose it. Hell, I might, too. “April? What’s going on, baby girl?” Capone asked, his voice quiet.
She sobbed, and Capone growled. I imagined that sound had his soul raging. If I heard her crying and wasn’t near her, I’d probably lose my shit. “April, talk to me.”
“Come home,” she pleaded.
“Baby—”
“You have to come home,” she cried. “Please, Capone. She’s—you’re going into a trap.”
I was pretty sure if I had eaten breakfast, I would’ve thrown it up. Not much bothered me anymore, but the thought of Capone and our boys going into a fucking trap—getting themselves hurt or killed—sliced through my gut like someone had stabbed me.
“Hawke,” Capone quietly snapped, “pull out. Now,” he ordered. “April called.”
That was all Hawke needed to hear to know they were going into something bad. Something dangerous.
Something they might not walk out of alive from.
I heard Hawke quietly giving orders to Brewer. A moment later, Capone came back on the line. “Tell me about the dream, baby girl. That’s what you had, right?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled, her tears thankfully slowing now that Capone was leaving—taking her nightmare seriously. “There was a phone call. She told someone you were coming. You walked into a room at an abandoned motel and—” Her words cut off as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
“Fuck,” Capone swore, and that was all I needed to hear to know that was exactly where he was at. A fucking motel. I could probably place money on it that it would be the exact same one in her fucking dream.
It chilled the blood in my veins. So many people thought of her dreams as a gift, and when they protected our men, they were. But I knew they were also a curse. Because even if we managed to stop what happened in time, she still had to live with that fucking nightmare playing on repeat in her head.
I dreaded the day she woke up too late to warn anyone of what could happen. That guilt would eat her alive inside, and I knew nothing any of us did would ease the pain she would inevitably live with for the rest of her life.
“Easy, darlin’,” I soothed, burying my face in her hair. “He’s going to be okay.”
Fuck, he had to be.
“Keep talking,” Smokey urged, his hand running over her hair.
“Someone was waiting behind the door,” she whispered. “I saw him rush out with a knife. His face was covered with a mask. And then, I woke up.”
Smokey was pale. Fuck, I was sure I didn’t look much better. If I’d dreamed what she had, I’d have been drowning myself in a liquor bottle.
Because Capone wouldn’t have answered the phone for me.
I was more thankful than ever for April at that moment. Because losing Capone, Hawke, or Brewer would kill me.
“I’m coming home, baby girl, you hear me? I’m getting on my bike now,” he promised her. “I’ll see you when I get home. Let the guys take care of you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. There was so much pain in those three words that I shuddered.
“I love you, too,” he promised.
April was silent and withdrawn for the two hours it took our men to get back to the clubhouse. Smokey and I could barely get her to drink water to get her hydrated. Food was off the table; she couldn’t stomach it. Just the smell had her gagging, so River quickly took that back downstairs.
Rider and River were deeply concerned, but they didn’t dare let Malorie out of their sights after April’s dream. We all knew the tendency those dreams had of coming true. Capone, who we all felt was nearly invincible, could have died today had April not had that dream. And if he hadn’t answered her call like he promised he always would…
My temples pounded with an oncoming migraine at the mere thought of living in a world where Capone didn’t exist. Something in me threatened to wither and die at the mere idea.
A world without Capone was miserable and bleak.
The sound of bikes roaring onto the lot had April jumping from my lap. She stumbled, and I barely managed to steady her before she was rushing down the stairs in nothing but one of Capone’s t-shirts with no fucking panties, but Smokey nor I said a damn word.