Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Rayo turns fuckin’ feral, his chest rumbling, before a deep, long rumble erupts from him and he tears at his fucking chains.
I step back, ready to speak to the three of them when my phone rings from the table, so I clamp my mouth shut, turning around to grab it.
Royce Brayshaw’s name, one of my now former bosses, flashes across the screen. He’s the one and only brother pissed off at me ’cause I helped out his brother’s girl when she needed it at his brother’s request. If he even knows that part of it, I don’t know. He’s the last motherfucker I would have expected to call, especially since the day I walked out of there, they knew I wouldn’t be coming back and that I had no need to since the check their new queen sent me off with was more money I knew a person could have.
I bring my phone to my ear, and he doesn’t wait for me to say a word.
“Hey, motherfucker,” he slurs, clearly on a heavy dose of liquor. “Never wanted you back in this town, but I’m thinking you might want to be.”
“Thought wrong. What do you want?” I look over to where Oliver is crawling on his forearms, trying to get closer to his dad, but his limbs are still too weak. “I’m kind of busy.”
“Yeah, I’ve been busy too. Busy with a sweet little thing, soft short hair and a perfect round ass.”
Tension crawls down my spine, and I grip the phone tighter.
“Aye, this girl?” He chuckles in my ear, the sound setting off a warning alarm in my head because while his next words shock the shit out of me, they’re the exact ones I expect. “She’s got a brother.”
The line goes dead, and I swear to fucking God, he’s about to be if he touched one finger on her head. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I whip the keys out of the other and step up to Rayo.
“I’m giving you a gift. Three, to be exact.” I speak so low only he can hear as I press my chest against his and he lifts his chin, holding on to his pride, even though he’s chained to my fucking basement floor. “And now I’m going to collect my reward. If you think I don’t know what your exact next move will be, you’re wrong, so I will warn you once. Do not fucking do it. You will regret it.”
With one quick flick of my eyes to the other two, I shove the key into the lock around Rayo’s right wrist, freeing it before I drop it into the pocket of his shirt, leaving him to do the rest.
Otto and Oliver scream and shout, their voices echoing off the walls as Hayze and I make our way to the door, up the stairs, and into the mansion.
My mansion.
We close the door behind us so their screams are sealed inside.
“Boss?” he draws.
“Royce Brayshaw has my sister.”
“Oh shit.”
Oh shit is right. I’m not their bitch boy anymore. I’m not their errands man.
I’d go as far as to say we’re nothing to each other now, a little fact I hope he remembers because I’m coming for him. My sister is supposed to stay out of everything related to the life I lead and he just dragged her straight into it as if she’s some sort of tool to be used against me for his own bullshit. She isn’t. She’s kind and good and deserves better. She deserves more.
I’m going to beat his fucking ass.
“You headed out now?” Hayze asks.
“Almost.” Rather than head out to the front, where my car is parked, he follows my lead out the back door through the gardens. “Just gotta collect something first …”
Chapter 34
Bass
Present Time
Chaos. Complete and utter chaos is what I’ve bulldozed my way into, not that I expected anything different.
No less than ten guns are pointed directly at me right now, but their queen stands between them and if anyone dares to hurt her, there’s a nifty little gun attached to this new tank of mine that Hayze won’t hesitate to let run free. I told him to take me out if he had to.
If she hurts, I hurt, and they fucking die. Plain and fucking simple.
We planned for that horrifying possibility, but I counted on her team being smart enough to know when to hold back.
What I did not plan for or anticipate was the fuckery of emotions and thoughts the sight of her would bring.
Goddamn if I don’t want to run to her, pick her up and hold her, fucking rock her back and forth a while. I want to tell her everything’s going to be all right and explain where we’re at and what’s going on.
Then there’s this other part that wants to look down my nose at her, turn my back on her and make her beg, plead and cry at my feet for dismissing me the way she did and in front of a little bitch like Oliver when all she had to do was take my hand—that part of me is an even bigger asshole.