Tank (Reckless Souls MC #10) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Reckless Souls MC Series by KB Winters
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
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I stand up and look around the visiting room again before my gaze lands back on Ace.

“Whatever it takes,” I say again, bumping my fist against his, a silent agreement that I’ll sure as shit walk out of here as soon as Noelle does her lawyer trickery.

“Stay safe and keep your fuckin’ head on a swivel.”

“Always, brother.”

Ace walks out without waiting for a guard to escort him, and I smile at the way he doesn’t take any shit from anyone. No one tells him what to do, and he owns that shit, which provides me with a level of comfort I need right now.

In the past, I only had myself to worry about, but now, I can’t stop thinking about Sophie. She’s fucking pregnant with my kid, which only gives me another reason to make it out of here sooner rather than later, and in one goddamn piece. I’ll do exactly as I told Ace—whatever it takes—to make it out of here for Sophie and my kid.

I can’t wait to see her body fill out with my kid. Round belly and big tits, weird food cravings, and an insatiable sexual appetite for just one thing, my cock. Just thinking about it puts a smile on my face. When I step into the cell block, I take note of everyone, all the different factions.

Friend or foe.

Enemy or ally.

Once I find out who Riot is, I’ll make my move.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sophie

I pop the plastic container of mac and cheese into the microwave, my mouth watering as I watch the timer count down. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed a proper meal. Not that microwave mac and cheese is proper, but it’s what I’m craving right now.

Extra cheesy.

I finally got the answers I needed about Tank and that woman. Now I can relax and dig in.

The microwave dings, and I grab a fork. I hit the remote and curl up on the sofa. I take my first rich, creamy bite and nearly moan in satisfaction. It’s absolute heaven after weeks of no appetite.

But just as I start to savor the comfort of my food, the newscaster’s ominous tone grabs my attention. I freeze, cheese dangling from my lips as the news comes into focus.

“Breaking News Alert.”

The image appears first, and it’s total devastation. A building has been leveled, and as the camera pans around the area, I realize it’s the clinic.

“No. Shit. Shit,” I moan into my plate as I watch the bulletin.

“The Angel Harbor Medical Clinic, a place where the poor and underserved receive emergency and free healthcare, has fallen victim to a firebombing.” The newscaster’s voice is deep and somber, the feeling mirrored in my gut. “Authorities don’t yet have any leads as this story is still developing. Stay tuned for more details.”

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” The question is for no one in particular since I’m alone, but my sentiment is genuine. My heart is beating like a racehorse, and I can’t even swallow the mac and cheese growing cold in my mouth. I stumble to the trash, suddenly unable to swallow another bite. Sobs build in my chest as the reality sets in. The clinic is gone. My vision blurs, and I rush to the sofa to sit back down. Fuck.

Sucking in shallow breaths, I bend my head between my knees, willing myself not to pass out. Nova and Hannah—were they there when it happened? Bile rises in my throat as terrifying images flash through my mind. I don’t even know what time the blast went off. They could be trapped, injured—or worse.

I clench my eyes shut, focusing on steadying my breathing. After a few agonizing minutes, oxygen finally reaches my brain and jumpstarts it back to life. I fumble for my phone with shaking hands.

“Please pick up, please,” I beg as Hannah’s phone rings straight to voicemail.

“Shit!” I hiss, immediately tapping Nova’s name. It rings twice before disconnecting.

“No, no, no!” I cry out. I have to get over there, have to figure out what’s happening. Grabbing my purse with trembling fingers, I race to the door. Fear and adrenaline pump through my veins with every step. Images of the destroyed clinic flash through my mind, the rubble and smoke clouding my thoughts.

Distracted driving has never been my vice—trust me, I’ve seen the results. So I take a deep breath and exhale, forcing my eyes on the road. I try to push away all my morbid thoughts, but after about a mile, I feel a gnawing unease.

I peek in my rearview mirror. There’s that fucking car again, stalking my every move.

The window tint is really dark. So dark that the driver should worry about getting a ticket. Who is this freak? And why the hell does he keep following me?

There’s a car between us, which isn’t all that alarming, except they systematically make sure that there is only ever one car between us. A Prius slips in front of the car, and it changes lanes, speeds up, and gets back in front of the Prius.


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