Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“I know what he said, Grim, and I’m telling you, I don’t fucking care. I don’t want to talk to him, and I definitely don’t wanna see him.”
He listened for a moment, then shook his head. “He can say or do whatever he wants, but it’s not gonna change anything! What’s done is done.”
He continued to pace angrily back and forth as he listened to the other end of the call. Grim was doing his best to get Beckett and Preacher back on track, but he wasn’t having it.
I’d seen what the kid had been through, and I wasn’t sure that was ever gonna happen, especially when Beckett said, “I’m done, man. I mean it! I’m not doing this anymore, even if it means I gotta walk away from Fury. I just can’t do it. Not anymore.”
He ended the call and tossed his phone on the bed as he grumbled, “Sonofabitch!”
“Hey, brother.” I stepped up to the door. “You good?”
“Yeah, man. I’m golden.”
“Need anything?”
“Not anything you could give me.” He shrugged. “I’m just out of luck these days.”
“Things will turn around. You’ll see.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“Sometimes you gotta walk through hell to get to the other side.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You just gotta keep on walking, brother, cause if you stop...”
“I’ll be in this hell forever?”
“Yeah, and nobody wants that.” I started out of the room as I told him, “We got a long day tomorrow. You best get some rest.”
I walked back to my room, and as I got ready to crash, I was pleased that there was no more yelling coming from Beckett’s room. I hoped that meant he’d called it a night, and I quickly did the same. When we got up the next morning, I found him in the kitchen drinking his coffee, and while neither of us mentioned the night prior, he seemed to be in better spirits.
He held onto his good mood all through work and that had me feeling pretty good about things. But the second I pulled back into the clubhouse and spotted an unmarked black Mercedes parked at the front, my good mood went flying out the window.
Torch had pulled in with me, so I turned to him and asked, “Any idea who that might be?”
“No clue.”
Curious, we both started up to the front door. We’d barely stepped inside the bar when I spotted Prez sitting at the front counter with Savage and Cotton. And standing in front of them was Maltese, Cardelli's lead man. He looked just as menacing as he did the last time he’d shown up at the clubhouse. He had on a similar black business suit, and those crazy dark eyes were skirting around the room like he was waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows.
Torch and I walked over to see what he was doing there, and as we got closer, I overheard him say, “As you might know, Mr. Cardelli had an ongoing issue with Mr. Bauco and his men. They’d cost him a business deal or two, and he was growing tired of their interferences.”
“We’d gotten wind of it, but that was no concern of ours.”
“No, it wasn’t, but you dealt with them and dealt with them well. My boss was quite impressed with the way you handled them, and I must admit, I am, too. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“You’re walking a fine line between a compliment and an insult, and trust me when I say, now is not the time to be insulting Fury.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that. You made that very clear. In fact, I don’t think you will have any further troubles with your deliveries or anything else for that matter.” He kept his serious tone as he added, “So, no. My comment wasn’t an insult. In fact, it was the farthest thing from it.”
And there it was—confirmation that our endeavors hadn’t been in vain. We’d made the statement we needed to make, and we could only hope that Maltese was right, and we wouldn’t have any more trouble with Bruton’s business. It was a laughable thought.
In this line of work, there’s always trouble.
But it was nothing the brothers of Satan’s Fury couldn’t handle.
We’d already proven it once, and if necessary, we’d prove it again.
Maggie
“Holy Toledo! Look at all this stuff!”
Samantha’s eyes lit up with excitement as she looked around the dark, cold attic. It wasn’t a place she or her brother typically got to go, especially without me, so she was both curious and excited about all the Christmas treasures that were waiting for her in the various boxes.
It was a sight to see. I’d always loved Christmas. It was my absolute favorite holiday, and it tickled me that my children loved it just as much as I did. That being said, I didn’t want them to get carried away, so I warned, “You have to be careful. There’s a lot of breakable stuff up here.”