Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“Appreciate that, Rock.” Merlin dips his chin as if he’s about to make a noble offer. “But I should make things right and get Carter myself.”
Rock pinches the bridge of his nose. My father has patience for a lot of things. Stupidity isn’t one of them. “They’re expecting you to be at the meet,” he reminds Merlin in slow, deliberate words.
“Oh, right.”
“You been smoking their product?” Wrath asks.
“No. I don’t touch that shit.” His outrage seems to deflate when he realizes Wrath’s fucking with him. “I ain’t one of your bros.”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
Ignoring Wrath, Merlin focuses on me again. “You need time to get the money together?”
For an amount that large, I either need to hit the safe at my house, the one in the basement here at the clubhouse, or the one at Crystal Ball. Merlin doesn’t need to know we keep that kind of cash so close to home though. “Yeah, I’ll need a few. Why don’t I meet up with everyone down at Ward’s?”
“You need a vest,” Rock reminds me. “I’m not having you get shot again.”
“Now he’s definitely going to get shot, Prez,” Murphy says. “Why’d you have to say that?”
“Thanks, jackass,” I mutter. “I’ll stop and get one.”
“I’ll bring the hardware,” Wrath says. “Place is in the middle of nowhere. We don’t have to worry about being quiet.”
“Fuck yeah.” Z punches his fist in the air.
“Uh…” Merlin rubs his knuckles over his chest. “Can you look out for June? She’s tiny.” He holds his hand a few inches above the table. “Black hair. Pregnant.”
“That’s her name?” Rock asks. “June?”
“Yeah.”
“She gonna shoot at us first?” Jigsaw asks.
“I don’t think so.”
“Great,” Wrath mutters.
“I don’t know for sure she’ll be there.” Merlin shrugs. “But just in case.”
“We got it,” I say.
“Let’s get ready.” Rock claps his hands. “Meet out front in ten. Teller, see you at Ward’s.”
Everyone agrees to their assignments and stands to leave.
On my way out, I stop in front of Z. “Thanks, brother. You don’t have to do this.”
“The fuck I don’t.” He gives me a quick shove. “My son calls him Uncle. Lilly loves him.” The corners of his mouth lift. “She can’t stop talking about all the artwork they’re planning together. He’s family, Teller. We got this.”
“Thank you.”
He slaps my cheek. “Get your head on straight and let’s get these motherfuckers.”
I dip into the living room. Charlotte’s waiting where I left her. She lifts her head and our eyes lock. Taking her hand, I kneel in front of her and kiss her damp cheeks. “I’m going to get him back, Sunshine. I promise,” I whisper.
“Promise me something else.”
I search her face, waiting for her request.
“Kill them. Whoever took my brother and…hurt him. Kill. Them.”
“I promise.” I press her face between my palms and kiss her hard on the lips. “I’ll kill ’em all.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Teller
“Teller!” Swan races down the front steps of the clubhouse.
I stop and wait for her, keenly aware I need to stop by my house for the money, body armor, weapons, and get my ass on the road.
She skids to a stop and grabs my arm. “Are you going to find Carter?”
“Yeah.” I can’t tell her much more. She’s been around the club long enough to know that.
“Please, please, bring him back safe,” she pleads.
Any other time, I might tease her about whatever relationship she and Carter have going. Tonight, I don’t have it in me. “We will.”
And I’m going to gut every motherfucker who hurt my family while I’m at it.
“What can I do to help?” she asks.
“Stay put. Don’t leave the property. See if the girls need anything.”
“Of course.”
I rush to my truck and jump in. A few minutes later, I pull up to the front steps of my house, leap out, thunder up the porch steps and barge inside.
Clear head.
Standing in the entryway, I stop and run through a list of what I need. The safe upstairs has cash. I head there first. Kneeling on the floor of the closet, I punch in the code for the safe and start stuffing roughly the right amount into a backpack. I ain’t a fucking bank and can’t waste time counting every dollar.
While I’m standing in the closet, I strip down and jump into a pair of black camouflage, waterproof, tactical cargo pants. The material’s sturdy and shouldn’t snag on anything and the pants have loads of easy-to-access pockets and pouches. The Kevlar vest will add enough bulk, so I slide into a long-sleeved black compression shirt.
Next, I hit the nightstand by my side of the bed for a handgun. I press my palm to the screen and the biometric safe that takes up the entire bottom drawer clicks open.
No wimpy .22 pistol tonight. I wrap my fingers around the textured grip of my 10mm Kodiak. It’s practically a damn cannon, but I had it at the range recently and feel comfortable using it.