Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
My heart broke just a little bit to see him like that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Drake
“You want to stay here for a little while? I can come get you after I check in with the guys.”
She nodded numbly as her Auntie wrapped her in her arms and pulled her into the doorway, but her eyes were worried. Awake for the first time since the attack, but worried all the same.
Not for herself, I realized immediately. For me. But also for him.
“Please be careful,” she said weakly. “And remember your promise,” she added, referring to the whole ‘not killing the motherfucker’ thing.
“I will,” I said with a nod, watching carefully as she slid back into that semi-catatonic state.
“Chamomile tea and lots of snacks for you,” she crooned. Auntie looked back over her shoulder at me and mouthed ‘make him pay’. I nodded.
There had to be a way to handle this while respecting Dana’s wishes, and making sure this motherfucker never, ever did anything like this again.
I prayed to God that Connor had some ideas about that. Because I sure as shit did not. All my ideas ended with me in the woods with a Goddamn shovel, burying a body.
I drove back to Dana’s old apartment with my mind in a state of chaos.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Lucky
“Connor is coming. Be about another hour. You say the word, and he turns around.”
We all watched Drake carefully when Dev was done talking. We all knew we would do whatever he wanted us to do. Even those of us who did not have a stomach for murder.
Not that any of us would say boo, if that was what he wanted.
Me especially.
Hell, I wanted to tear the guy’s head off for what he had done to Dana. Even if he did seem like his mind right. He’d scared the hell out of her, invaded her space, and terrorized her.
The guy’s name was Joe. Joe had been claiming he would never hurt Dana over and over again. I didn’t believe it for a second. Maybe he didn’t want to hurt her, but he already had.
The way he was caterwauling set a chill right down my spine. It gave me goosebumps. It didn’t sound the least bit sane.
Drake was looking at the guy like he was a bomb he had to defuse. And in a way, he was. This was not the usual situation of having a problem with a clear answer. But Drake had backup, no matter which way this went.
All of us were watching. Waiting. Drake looked at Jack. Then he looked at Dev. Then at each of us around the circle. He sighed and jerked his head towards the bedroom. Most of us followed him in, with a few of Cain’s guy left behind to watch the stalker.
“We got you, Drake. No matter what,” Donnie said.
“I know what you want to do. And I know what I would do,” Dev said. “But I can’t make that call for you.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Drake said, running his hand through his hair. “He seems more like he needs a padded room than an unmarked grave.”
“I agree option two is not the way to go,” Jack rumbled. “Though I would be tempted to put him in that grave all the same.”
We all raised an eyebrow. Jack was famously protective of anyone physically weaker than he was, mostly women and children. The man blubbering in the other room was definitely that. But we also knew that protecting his woman, family, and MC family trumped any sense of right or wrong.
Not to mention he rarely said that many words all at once. Hell, I’d gone weeks without hearing him string together two sentences like that. But this was an unusual situation. And Drake looked up to Jack in a very specific way. We all did.
Dev was an amazing leader. Fair. Even keeled and firm with his hand when it came to doling out justice. He was a relatively easy going, happy guy. I’d heard someone say that he was the Kennedy of the West Coast clubs.
Jack was a walking thunderstorm. Hell, Jack was a volcano. He’d calmed down plenty since he and Janet got together. But he was, and always would be, a deep soul.
A deep soul with a pit of rage at the bottom.
When Jack spoke, it was like the word of God. He was Moses on the mountain. Jack was fucking biblical.
If Jack said the guy deserved to live, well then the guy did. At least as much as anyone else did.
Even though I really wanted to smash his face in.
“You okay, man?” I asked Drake. We didn’t always see eye to eye but he was my brother. Not just because we rode together, either. We were more alike than almost anyone I’d ever met.
It was probably why we butted heads so often, truth be told.