Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Then his head turned just a fraction.
And sure the fuck enough, it was him.
Erion Kadare.
Was that who Nyx meant?
I guess it… fit.
If he was hard up for money, if he needed something to get him started.
A couple hundred grand was some nice seed money. And despite being away for a while, he would have had some connections to get rid of that kind of shit.
Maybe he saw her stashing it.
Maybe he just came across it.
Either way, he and I had to have some words.
“You gonna fucking say something, or just admire me from a distance?” Erion asked, not turning, so there was no way he could have seen me.
Sensed me, maybe.
It was a valuable skill to develop.
And, I imagined, a necessary one when you were locked up.
“Erion Kadare,” I said, moving in front of him, watching as his gaze moved over me.
“I’d say you didn’t look familiar, but not a lot of fucks are walking around with scars like that,” he said. “What do you want, Slash?”
“You the one who put his hands on my woman?” I asked, tone deadly, making his brows lift.
“Twice tonight I’ve been put in a position to inform people that I don’t put my hands on women. I don’t give a fuck how many bricks of heroin she’s hiding. That’s a line a man doesn’t cross.”
“Where are the drugs?” I asked.
“Best guess? In someone’s bloodstream right about now,” Erion said, shrugging.
“You were never in the drug trade.”
“No, but shit happens,” he said, leaning back against his car. “And if you want to get a leg up after being away as long as I was, you need to be willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Do you even give a fuck that you were the reason a woman got her face all fucked up?” I asked, watching as his eyes went a little dark.
“The fuck is your woman dealing heroin for anyway? The arms trade not as profitable as it used to be?”
“She’s not a fucking dealer. She works at the bar. She got wrapped up with the Bulgarians years ago. They’ve been fucking with her life since.”
“That explains it,” he said, nodding.
“Explains what?”
“The fucks who keep an eye on her.”
“You’ve seen them?” I asked, stiffening.
“Dunno how you haven’t. Been on her ass since I’ve been out. Sitting in cars in the lot, watching.”
“What kind of cars?”
“Black. I know. Real helpful,” he said, sending me a smirk, confirming the rumors I’d heard about Erion being a bit of a dick.
“What about the men in the unhelpful black cars?”
“Too far to see ‘em. They didn’t sit on her all the time, but they were around. How the fuck haven’t you seen ‘em?”
“We haven’t been serious until recently,” I said, shrugging.
“And fuck buddies don’t share their super secret past involvement with a heroin crime syndicate.”
“Something like that. Have you seen anyone leaving packages at her place?”
“If I had, I’d have snatched them first,” he admitted.
“You’re really fucking helpful, man,” I said, sighing.
“Her place is quiet. Mostly just her around there.”
“Mostly just?” I asked, knowing Nyx didn’t socialize. She was usually working. And now that Dell was a mom, Nyx hung out with her at the clubhouse, not her apartment.
“Yeah, her one friend has been around a few times.”
“What friend? Delaney Murphy?”
“No. The guy. From the bar.”
The guy from the bar.
Granted, there were several guys at the bar.
Working back of the house.
Security.
But, somehow, I knew.
Still, I had to confirm, even as the unease swirled through my system, knowing she might be stuck there with him right that moment.
“Chet? The bartender?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Fuck,” I hissed, turning and running.
“Yo,” Erion called as I got to my bike.
“What?” I barked.
“If you’re thinking she’s stuck with him, she’s not. Got that pretty freckled thing working with her tonight.”
I gave him a nod, silent thanks, but still threw on my helmet and peeled out of the lot, making my way toward town, toward the bar.
I felt my fucking guts twist into knots when I saw five figures standing outside of the bar.
There was no reason to assume it was the Murphy brothers. Customers could be loitering out front, smoking, bullshitting before they went home.
But I knew, damnit, I knew.
Something had gone horribly fucking wrong.
I could feel it in the way my lungs felt constricted, the way my heart was getting crushed by the same pressure.
I was barely even aware of cutting my engine and getting off my bike.
“Where is she?” I shouted as soon as I was on the sidewalk.
“How did…” Eoin, the youngest, started, only to be cut off by Cillian.
“She was taken, we think,” he clarified.
“What the fuck do you mean think?” I growled. “You have cameras all over out here.”
“That stopped working mysteriously,” Conor, the one with the biggest temper, said, teeth gritted.
“Was he here?”
“Was who here?” Cillian asked.
“Chet. Was he in tonight?”