Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Trent, Marnie, Verity and I listened, however, and walked to where he’d directed us—which was to the family limousine.
I noticed Eugene duck into the car, and I resigned myself for a very unpleasant ride.
Verity caught the movement, and held out her hand.
“I’ll get the car and follow directly behind you. Okay?”
Marnie jumped at the chance.
“I’ll go with you!”
Marnie knew, just as well as I did, what would happen the moment I dropped down into that car.
Kenneth’s mother would start in, and to be honest, I’d rather all of that anger be directed at me rather than at Verity.
Verity, although she’d done nothing wrong, would likely be an easy target, and I didn’t want my aunt throwing any bad attitude her way if I could help it.
So yes, I gladly gave her my keys, and pointed at my sister.
“Don’t you leave her.”
Verity snorted and started walking to my car, using the key to open the door and then fall down inside.
She waved once, and I took a step backward, then turned and got into the limo.
“Well, well, well,” my aunt’s taunting voice said the moment I got inside. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
I gritted my teeth and turned my eyes to gaze out the window.
Only when the seat depressed beside me did I look up to find Trent sitting on the seat next to mine, clearly laying down his allegiance with a single-minded focus.
I would like to think that if I’d been in the right frame of mind, I wouldn’t have allowed Verity to ride by herself after all that Beckett had done to the people that were mine. Family. Friends.
Because, had I been in my right mind, I would’ve driven the two women, and risked the chance of pissing off my aunt.
Because anything beat being in a car and watching the woman you love nearly dying.
***
“What is that?”
I turned in my seat. We’d been driving for a while now, but it was at such a slow pace that I felt confident I could keep Truth’s car on the road while I looked.
And my blood turned cold at what I saw.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
There were bikes riding up beside us, and a lot of them.
They passed us, one by one by one until they were riding alongside us, but not overtaking the lead vehicle that held Kenneth’s body.
I saw Big Papa, Sean, Aaron, Tommy Tom, and Ghost in a sea of black and red—the Dixie Wardens MC colors—as well as a few of our prospects.
“How sweet,” Marnie whispered. “That’s a lot of bikers.”
“I know that this is way more than is in this particular chapter, so the ones that are here with our boys must be some other bikers that I’ve never seen before,” I explained. “That’s just…”
Something hard hit us.
So hard, in fact, that I jerked the wheel.
Luckily, I managed to go right instead of left, or I would’ve taken out several bikers in my attempt to keep the car on the road.
My ears were ringing, and my face was stinging.
Then we impacted with something else, and my head hit the steering wheel.
Someone cursed—maybe Marnie—but my head hurt too badly to put much thought into it.
For a few horrifying seconds, I thought I’d lose my lunch, but I managed to hold it down. Had I lost my lunch, my head would’ve started hurting worse, and that would’ve sucked because it was already pounding so hard that I worried for the state of my eyeballs.
Surely, if I puked, my eyeballs would pop out of my head. And if that happened, Truth would likely be disgusted and have to leave me out of self-preservation.
The car groaned, causing me to open my eyes.
Bikers surrounded me.
They were everywhere.
One was by my window looking in—the one with a Mohawk. Another was staring at me through the windshield—a windshield that had a large hole through the glass.
Had I hit something? Had a rock done that? God, I sure hoped I didn’t wreck Truth’s car over a freakin’ rock!
The door was pried open, and someone groaned.
It was only after I felt the groan vibrate in my chest a second time that I realized that someone was me.
Something hot dripped down my face, and I reached my hand upward to wipe it off my face, but found my hand unable to cooperate.
The door at my side was yanked open by Mohawk guy, and I blinked at him.
“You’re okay,” he said in a deep baritone that under any other situation would’ve sent chills down my spine with how delicious he sounded. This time, though, it only made me smile weakly.
“That’s a good girl,” he grinned for me. “Do you hurt?”
I tried to speak, swallowed, then tried again.
“My head.”
His eyes moved from my own, to something beside my head, and then back to my eyes.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m sure it does. Is your hearing okay?”