Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Chapter 1
Rafe
“Damn, brother. You look like three shades of hell.” I walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol off the counter. As I tossed it over to Lynch, I asked, “Have a long night?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He groaned as he tossed back a couple of pain relievers and washed them down with his coffee. I wasn’t used to seeing Lynch look so rough. Normally, he was on top of his game, ready to face whatever came his way, but on this particular morning, he seemed to be struggling even to stay awake. He lowered his head in his hand and confessed, “I took Stacey home last night.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Um-hmm. Wasn’t sure she was all that interested in hooking up until we got over to her place.” He let out a deep breath, then shook his head. “Usually, she’s so quiet and sweet, but last night she was a fucking wildcat.”
“Gotta watch out for those quiet ones.”
“You’re telling me. She almost threw out my fucking back.” He looked up at me with tired eyes. “Not what I was expecting at all.”
Stacey was one of the strippers at Stilettos. She’d been working there for months but never really stuck around after her shift. She simply did her number, waited on her tables, and called it a night, so we all figured she had a fella or just wasn’t interested in hooking up with a brother. Lynch had just proven otherwise. I gave him a pat on the shoulder as I chuckled and said, “You could always give her another go and work out the kinks.”
“Fuck, no. I’ll just stick with the Tylenol for now.”
“Suit yourself.” I motioned my head towards the clock. “We’ve got church in five. Best be getting to the conference room.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sounding like a seventy-year-old man, he stood with an anguished groan and started for the door. “Let’s do this.”
Chuckling under my breath, I followed him down to the room. When we walked in, most of the brothers were already there. Viper, the club’s president, was at the front of the table with Axel, our VP, sitting next to him. I headed to my usual spot and sat down between Country and Hawk while Lynch wandered over and took a seat next to Shotgun. After a few moments of idle small talk, Viper slammed the gavel to start the meeting. His voice was low and steady as he started, “During our last meeting, we were all in agreement that McKinney had redeemed himself after giving us the information we needed to take out the Punishers; in return, we voted not to take him out.”
“Yeah,” Widow replied, “and Shotgun sent him packing.”
“He did, but before he left, he gave Shotgun one last piece of information you all need to be aware of.” Viper turned to Shotgun. “You want to share what he told you?”
Shotgun was the Sinners’ enforcer. He was in charge of keeping the club out of harm’s way, not only by brute force but also by retrieving intel from our adversaries. Shotgun’s tactics were often ruthless, but they were effective. He’d never failed to acquire any information we needed, and it was no different when it came to dealing with the Punishers.
They were a local gang who’d recently tried to take down the club. They’d tied up with a local cop, and together they’d decided they didn’t like the fact their competition was selling a better product. With the cop’s help, they tried to set us up and make it look like we’d killed Remington—a chick who would later become Shotgun’s ol’ lady. They’d roughed her up, stabbed her, and tossed her into our dumpster at Stilettos. Their plan backfired when Shotgun managed to get his hands on two of their members. One got a bullet between the eyes, while the other, McKinney, had given us information that eventually brought down their entire fucking gang.
Shotgun gave Viper a nod, then said, “As you all know, McKinney was very forthcoming from the start. He’d had his issues with the Punishers and wanted to walk away, but that couldn’t happen until we came into the picture. Like Viper mentioned, he gave us the intel on the warehouse and the Widow Maker, and because of that, we were able to take out the Punishers. Last night, he handed us one last piece of intel that has me concerned.”
“Concerned about what?”
“Not what. Who?” Shotgun corrected. “McKinney had already told me about Scar. He didn’t know much about him, just that he was the man behind the scenes, but on the way to the airport, he made a point to bring up the guy again. Said we needed to watch our backs and be prepared for a war like we’ve never seen before.”
“Damn. With our fucking luck, this guy is the head of some cartel or some bullshit like that.” Country shook his head and grumbled, “He’s liable to bend us over and fuck us in the goddamn ass and won’t even think about using fucking lube.”