Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 80664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I cracked the bones in my neck, preparing myself for the fight of my life. I met the pussies at the picnic table I’d just vacated, and to my surprise, Wolf leaned against the table while Stone and Munch took seats. I’d kind of just assumed they’d get on with it already. Although Miller had just given me a pack of smokes, when I spied a pack in the front pocket of Wolf’s jumpsuit, I reached in and plucked it out along with a book of matches. “Thanks for the smoke,” I said, lighting one and tossing the matchbook onto the table. “You girls ready to try and do this, or what?”
Try being the most important word.
I wasn’t scared of these motherfuckers. The only fear I really had was not seeing Ti again.
I was more annoyed than anything.
Agitated.
All those years and all that time wasted trying to make my brothers better outlaws and this was the best plan they could come up with? “I swear I taught you bitches better than this,” I said, shaking my head. “Taking me out in an open yard in front of a shit ton of cameras. Chop’s been losing his fucking touch for years, but I expected more than this sloppy shit from you three.” I expected them to stand up, puff out their chests, and make their threats against me.
Something.
Munch and Stone looked to the ground while Wolf lit his own cigarette. Before the flame met the paper, I punched him in the eye, and he immediately dropped to the ground.
I was always better at offense.
“Chop sent us, but we ain’t here to take you out, fucker,” Wolf said, rolling on the ground with his hand over his eye.
“Then what the fuck did he send you here for? A fucking tickle fight?” I breathed out the smoke through my nose, and although I had no idea how the next few minutes were going to play out, I felt relaxed amongst the familiar conflict.
At peace.
At home.
Adrenaline built as each second ticked by until I was positive I could flip a fucking truck over if I had the chance.
Or take on three guys at once and win.
“No, he did send us here to take you out, but that’s not what we’re gonna do,” Munch said, standing up and helping Wolf off the ground.
“You’re going to go against your Prez’s orders?” I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Now I’m actually disappointed. I must have been a real shitty teacher for you guys to make that kind of call.”
“We ain’t going against Prez’s orders,” Stone chimed in, standing up from the bench, “’Cause he ain’t our fucking Prez anymore.”
“Come again?” I asked, unsure of what weird alternate universe I’d just stepped into.
Wolf released his eye, which was already starting to swell, and unzipped his jumpsuit. Pushing it down, he revealed his bare chest, which used to be covered with a full chest piece tattoo of the Bastards’ logo. Now, it was an oozing wound, tissue and strands of damaged skin stretched across his chest, only a fraction of the tattoo remained.
He winced as he zipped back up.
“What the fuck? Chop do that?” I asked, pointing with my cigarette to Wolf.
He shook his head as both Munch and Stone revealed their own recently burned off tattoos. “No, he didn’t. We did. We all did.”
“Why?” I asked, standing there in complete disbelief that three of the Bastards’ most loyal soldiers had turned on their club. “What the fuck did Chop do that made you feel like you had to go all pyro on yourselves?”
“Stone, tell him…” Munch said with a reassuring nod. “He’s gotta know if we plan on making this right.”
“I can’t man,” Stone said, punching his open palm and shaking his head. His eyes became glassy and he sucked in his lips, rocking back and forth slowly like he was willing the memories of whatever he didn’t want to tell me. Stone got his name because when it came to taking people out he was a stone cold killer. The type of guy who barely had his gloves off, the body still warm, when he’d pipe up and say ‘I’m hungry, who wants a sandwich?’ To see him reduced to almost tears made me very curious about what the fuck it was they wanted him to tell me.
“You can do it, man. Just tell him,” Wolf said.
“The BBBs, they’re just fucking whores,” Stone said like he was reminding himself of that fact.
“Really? Is that what Em was to you? Just a fucking whore?” Wolf snapped, kicking his foot up onto the bench resting his elbow on his knee.
“Fuck! No,” Stone said, dropping his forehead to the table and running his hands over his shaved head, the black triton tattoo on his temple shimmered with beads of his sweat. “She was… Shit!” Stone stood up so abruptly he almost took the table with him. “They’re just supposed to be whores. Hangers-on. You know that. We all fucking know that.” Stone paced back and forth as he spoke, wringing out his hands and looking between the grass and me. “They’re there to suck and ride cock without question. If they question, they are out. They can’t say no. They can’t deny a brother. Those girls lived for the party. For the adventure of the club.”
“Yeah, until they stopped living altogether,” Munch chimed in, lighting a cigarette.
“What the fuck are you guys getting at?”
Stone looked at me straight faced but there was more pain in his eyes, more emotion, then I’d ever seen from him and I’d known him for over ten years. “What I’m getting at is Em.”
“Em?” I asked, not recalling a BBB by that name.
“Yeah. She had jet-black hair and weird purple grey eyes. She came to the club shortly after you left. She had nowhere else to go, her mom died in some sort of accident. Anyway, after the parties when everyone was all passed out we talked. She wasn’t like the others. She listened. She actually liked me. We grew kinda close.” He breathed out a sigh. “Too fucking close. She was my girl. Despite what she fucking did with the other brothers before she came to my room at night she was still my fucking girl.”