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)
Rock chuckles.
Next to me, Murphy’s silently shaking with his own laughter.
“Good Christ,” Grinder grumbles, stomping ahead of us. “Move your fucking asses.”
“You heard Grandpa.” Z slaps Rock’s shoulder. “Get moving.”
We make it to the grove of trees and our vehicles.
Wrath carefully sets Carter down. “Can you hop your ass into Teller’s big rig?”
Carter side-eyes him like he doesn’t want to risk another ride on Wrath’s back. “I think so.”
Now that we’re all together, Rock stops to check his phone. “I need to let them know we have Carter.” He meets my eyes. “No need to hand over your money, if we don’t have to.”
Jigsaw stares at Carter’s bloody sock. “Damn,” he breathes out, “I hoped they were fucking around and the toe wasn’t yours, or something.”
“Did they really send you my toe?” Carter’s eyebrows crawl up his forehead. “Did you put it on ice, maybe? Charlotte didn’t see it, did she?”
“It’s on ice,” Jiggy confirms, then finishes with the bad news. “Back at Teller’s house.”
Carter’s mouth turns down. “Eh, I guess I don’t need a Frankentoe.”
“Get in the truck.” Rock places his hand firmly between Carter’s shoulders and gently shoves him toward the back door.
“Are we done with this cousin-fucking MC, yet?” Z asks.
Rock pierces June with a stare that nails her in place. “Your father’s the president?”
She bites her lip and nods.
“Trip?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Trip was sent to prison a few months ago. A lot of the brothers were. My…my father challenged him right before that went down. And won,” she adds as if that part matters.
“Who’s your father?” Rock asks.
“Whitey.”
Rock glances at me and I shrug. Name doesn’t ring a bell. “Sticks is your brother, right?” I ask June.
Her nose wrinkles but she nods quickly. “Some of the brothers think he’s the one who ratted them out to the Feds.”
Wrath and I share a look. We’d run into Sticks before. Young patch holder. He was loose-lipped when we prodded him with a few questions. Ratting to the Feds wouldn’t surprise me one bit.
“Did he?” Rock asks.
Her gaze drops to the ground, like she suddenly finds the broken pavement fascinating. “I don’t know.”
Rock sends an eye roll my way. “Sounds like a yes.”
“I’m just a girl. They don’t tell me club stuff.” She crosses her arms over her chest like that’s the end of our discussion.
I study her carefully. They probably don’t tell her anything too important. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t know things.
Rock turns away. “Watch her. Dex hasn’t answered. I’m going to call him.”
I briefly consider calling Charlotte, but we’re not exactly out of danger yet. “Who’s Goober?”
“Uh…another patch holder.” She shifts on her feet and slides her gaze toward the woods behind us. “A friend of my brother’s. Why?”
“You know where he is?”
“No.”
“I’m not getting an answer from them,” Rock says, tucking his phone away and tugging on his gloves. “Let’s get the body and get out of here.”
The distant roar of motorcycle engines replaces the quiet chirping of crickets.
Too late now.
“Any chance that’s Merlin and the others?” Grinder asks.
Wrath shakes his head. “Doubt it.”
June slides toward my truck, her sneakers scraping through the sandy gravel, leaving a trail behind her.
Carter opens his door and beckons her closer with a wave of his hand.
“Guess she’s riding with us.” I lift my chin. “How many of ’em went to meet Merlin, June?”
“At least three,” she answers without hesitation. “They left Con here to watch me and Carter. My father, his enforcer, and my brother all left to meet Merlin. All patch holders.” She lifts her chin as if that’s something to be proud of.
“Being a patched brother ain’t exactly a threat with this MC,” Jigsaw snickers. “They’re fucking clowns.”
“Clowns who cut off Carter’s toe,” I remind him.
“Yeah, they’re definitely on the Pennywise end of the clown spectrum,” Jiggy agrees.
“Can we play rate-a-clown some other time?” Rock nudges me toward my truck. “We have a body to collect.”
“And some bodies to drop,” Grinder reminds us, jerking his head toward the approaching engines.
“You’re still on parole,” Z reminds him. “Why don’t you and—”
“Like fuck am I leaving you here, dipshit.” Grinder cracks a faint smile. “I mean, Prez.”
“The motherfucking disrespect from this one,” Z grumbles. A grin plays over his face. He clearly doesn’t give a shit about Grinder’s refusal to leave.
The engines grow even louder.
Rock slaps my shoulder, then Murphy’s. “Go get the body.” He glances at the bed of my truck. “Hope you got room in there, we’ll have more than one by the time we leave.”
“We’ll be right back.” I open my door and climb in.
Murphy hauls himself into the passenger side and slaps the dashboard. “Let’s see what this pretty thang can do!” he shouts, like we’re about to recreate a scene from The Dukes of Hazzard.
“Knock it off.”
I fire up the engine, back out of my spot, careful not to hit any of my brothers who don’t bother to move the fuck out of my way, then put it in drive and jump the short mound of dirt in front of us. We land with a bounce in the open field and I hit the gas.