Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
They’d pay tonight, and they’d pay dearly.
I stepped on his leg with my boot, applying pressure until his leg snapped. He roared a curse.
I grinned.
“Hi, mother fucker,” I mockingly greeted him.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled.
“Really?” I questioned. “You might have outsmarted me once, asshole, and even then, you had to wait until I was unconscious on a fucking operating table to get your hands on my woman.” He clenched his jaw, glaring up at me. Second bit of proof that he was the one who’d done it. “But that’s alright. Because the shit you did to my old lady?” I applied pressure to his other leg, snapping that one as well. He roared out in pain, now incapacitated. “I’m about to do that to you and every single one of your men before I gut all of you,” I promised.
With that, I flipped him to his stomach. Then, I gripped his wrists and yanked his arms back, snatching them right out of their sockets.
His pain-filled scream was music to my ears.
And I wasn’t near done yet.
“Why the fuck did you go after my woman?” I snapped at him.
He clenched his jaw. “Your bitch didn’t give anyone my message?”
I flipped my knife open and shoved it in front of his face. He audibly swallowed. “You call my woman a goddamn degrading name again, and I’ll shove this knife straight up your ass and fuck you with it.”
His face paled. I was sure he’d heard enough rumors about me to know that I didn’t bluff.
“Needed Axel,” he seethed.
“Why?” I drawled. River was silent, letting me pull the answers out of him myself. I was a bit more fucked up and twisted than River was. He knew I’d get every bit of knowledge we needed.
“He’s my nephew. This is supposed to be his empire. He’s supposed to be raised here with his family. Not with the Fathers of fucking Mayhem.”
I barked out a laugh. “That’s pitiful as fuck. You really thought you’d get your hands on that little boy? He’s guarded better than an inmate in a fucking high-security prison.”
River cleared his throat. I looked up at him.
“Finish him,” he ordered.
I nodded once and grinned, letting that monster inside of me take over.
Reina was sitting on her bed when I walked into the room. She looked up at me as I shut the door, and she sucked in a sharp breath of air.
I was coated in blood. Pretty sure I looked like a psychotic serial killer.
“It’s done,” I told her softly. I knew she would know what that meant without me having to elaborate
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “They’re dead?”
I nodded, pushing my damp hair back off my forehead. “I promised you they would fucking pay for touching you.” And I’d made them pay. And it hadn’t taken me an entire goddamn month to get a fucking move on it like it had taken this club.
She lurched off the bed, and completely disregarding the blood covering me, she jumped at me. I gripped the back of her bare thighs, lifting her up, my lips meeting her hungry ones.
She grasped my bloody face in her hands. “Thank you.”
I pecked her lips. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
And I meant that with every fiber of my being.
8
Sam
Two months passed, and I had been doing everything in my power to prove to Reina that everything would be different between us this time around. I’d refrained from touching her, instead relieving myself every time I took a shower. I kept my hands to myself. I wanted to show her that we had something beyond physicality between us. I knew I’d professed my love to her, but I wanted to prove it to her—needed to prove it to her.
Every club bunny that even glanced my way, I quickly shut down. I’d almost lost Reina once. I wasn’t letting a goddamn thing keep us apart this time. And I certainly wasn’t losing her because some club bunny wanted my dick shoved down her throat.
Reina’s back was finally healed. I had been keeping check on it, making sure it never got infected. The scarring was fucking horrible; every line that had been sliced into her back was a raised, puckered scar. It would remain like that for the rest of her life, and I knew she fucking hated it. She barely let me touch it long enough to bathe her back for her.
I wanted to kiss every single scar that littered her back, but I was terrified of scaring her away. She avoided mirrors at all cost that would reveal her back to her eyes. And she no longer wore tank tops and crop tops around the clubhouse. Now, all she wore was baggy t-shirts. My woman had gone into hiding, and I fucking hated it. I wanted the old Reina back, but I knew even if she came out of her shell again, she wouldn’t be the same woman anymore. That would be impossible. She’d gone through something horrific, and what she’d gone through—you didn’t come out of that unscathed.