Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
The front door crashed open, and I cursed. I didn’t have much time. I had to get them the fuck out of here.
“Get them to safety,” I commanded. They nodded once. I looked at Beck. “Get Clarke out this window, and then follow her. Understand me?”
“But—” His face paled even more, turning his skin a ghostly white. “Tank—”
“No,” I snapped, my voice hardening. He flinched the slightest bit, but I didn’t have time for apologies or to soften the blow. I needed them to get the fuck out of here while we still had time. If I had to be cruel, then I would. Time was ticking. “Go. Now.”
He jerkily nodded his head and stood to his feet, pulling Clarke to hers. She was dissociating badly, not really taking anything in. Her mind had gone into preservation mode, which was fine. Meant a little bit harder work, but dealing with her mind not really being here was easier than dealing with a panicked, screaming woman.
I placed my hand on the doorknob, gritting my teeth. When I glanced over my shoulder, Clarke was being lifted out the window. Beck looked over his shoulder at me, looking torn. I knew he didn’t want to leave me, but I was trained for this shit. I could handle myself.
“Go,” I gruffly ordered.
He swallowed thickly. “I love you,” he croaked.
Godfuckingdammit, my heart.
“I love you, too,” I rasped, my chest aching. I didn’t know if I would ever see them again. I had no idea if I would make it out of this alive. “Now fucking go.”
He jerkily nodded his head before climbing through the window and disappearing from my sight. As soon as he was gone, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
“Oh, Ash,” a gruff voice sang. Clearly, the man calling for me smoked too many packs a day. Probably wouldn’t be long before he ended up with throat cancer. “Come on out wherever you are. I don’t like playing hide and seek.”
He knew my real name, which meant he’d done his homework. I was naked aside from the boxers slung low around my hips. I should have been more prepared for something like this, especially with the bad feeling I’d had curdling in my gut for the past almost twenty-four hours. But I’d been stupid thinking Alejandro’s men could keep the problem away. Keep it from touching what was mine.
I stepped out into the living room, my gun raised, but I was outnumbered. Three guns were pointed at me. I worked my jaw around, my muscles tensing.
I was fucking trapped. There was no way I was reaching Beck and Clarke. I had to trust Alejandro’s men to keep them safe because I couldn’t. Not anymore.
For me, it was over.
“Go on, Ash. Lower your weapon,” the multi-pack-a-day smoker rasped, clearly in charge. He was wearing an expensive Armani suit custom-tailored to fit his slim frame. His beard was trimmed and neat, and the gold rings adorning his fingers were most definitely not fake.
The goddamn Bradley family had sent the important people after us. Fuck.
I slowly lowered my weapon, crouching to set it on the floor. The man smirked. “Such a good boy, aren’t you, Ashy baby?”
My gut churned as I stared at him, slowly rising back to my full height. Only one man had ever called me Ashy baby. I thought he’d been arrested. Thought he was sitting in a prison cell, rotting away. How the fuck was he out?
“Surprised?” Carter Bradley asked. Back then, he’d been the right-hand man to the head of the Bradley family, which was his brother, Emmett Bradley. If he was here, that meant he’d taken over. Choosing to operate in the Fathers of Mayhem’s territory meant this was a personal thing, especially since he had to know that Alejandro Garcia owned nearby territory.
I didn’t respond to him, just kept watching him. It wasn’t easy to forget that he hated it when I spoke, even if he asked me a question. He wanted me silent. Compliant. And while, back then, I had been. I wasn’t anymore. I wasn’t a scared boy anymore.
I was just trying to play my cards right. Give Alejandro’s men time to get Beck and Clarke away.
“Kick the gun over to me, Ashy baby.”
I did as he commanded, kicking it toward him, and he stopped the slide of the gun with the toe of his expensive, shiny black loafers. He lowered his weapon then and grabbed a cigarette out of the pocket of his suit coat. After he lit it, he looked at me, that smirk still on his lips.
“Knock him out, and let’s go.”
Before I could even try to defend myself, someone slammed something hard against the back of my head. My knees crashed to the floor, making pain radiate up my thighs. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I fell forward. The last thing I was aware of was pain in my nose and my arms being yanked behind my back.