Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
“I’m not telling you shit.” Luke shakes his head.
I figured he’d be this way. That’s why I have Whitney here. Otherwise, I would have never let my wife see her sister was still alive. I kept her hidden, tied up in a cell next to Jackson’s at Carnage for this very reason for the past week. I didn’t want to break Lake this way, but I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect my wife. I had to weigh my options. And my wife’s safety will always win.
Removing the gag from Whitney’s mouth, she openly sobs, her body struggling in the rope. After I fucked my wife’s mouth in the cathedral at Carnage, I brought her here while I had Ryat bring Jackson and Whitney. I then sent the video and pictures to Luke from Whitney’s phone that I took of my wife. I had Ryat tie up Whitney the same way, making him think it was my wife when he arrived. All I needed was a second of surprise.
“Don’t you fucking say anything,” Luke yells at her. “Keep your mouth shut.”
She can’t right now over her sobbing, but I have something that will help her get under control. Removing my cell, I unlock it and turn on my wife’s collar that I had placed on Whitney.
She goes silent as her body shakes from the shocks. Turning it off, she sags the best she can in the tight ropes. I do it again and she tenses.
“I can do this all night,” I tell Luke, ignoring my wife yelling into her tape. “But I don’t need to.” Stopping it, I lower myself at the end of the Lords’ table to meet her eyes. “Were you going to sell my wife?” I ask.
She closes her eyes tightly, and I grip her face, squeezing it as hard as I can, knowing it’ll leave prints afterward. “YES!” she cries, and I let go of her.
“Fucking bitch…”
I punch Luke, cutting him off. My wife’s face is white, drained of all color, and her big, beautiful tear-filled eyes are on mine.
“Please let me go,” Whitney begs. “Please—”
I pull out my knife and hold it to her neck. “Let you go?” Laughing, I shake my head. “You were going to sell my pregnant wife, and you think I’m going to just let you walk away?”
She gasps.
“Thanks for that, by the way.” I smile at Luke. “She’s giving me twins.” I turn back to Whitney. “You took her away from me. And you must pay for that. Nobody takes what’s mine and walks away.”
“Please!” She shouts, “Lake—” Whitney tries to look over at her out of the corner of her eyes, but she can’t see my wife with how she’s positioned. “Please, don’t let him do this to me.”
“My wife can’t help you,” I say truthfully. Lake could beg, cry, and plead with me, but this is one thing I’d never give her. It’s also another reason I made sure she couldn’t speak. “You will die here like the fucking bitch you are.”
Pressing the knife into her neck, she rushes out, “Ashtyn.”
The Cathedral falls eerily silent, and I look over at Saint, who is already heading straight for us. I step back, and he takes the knife from me, flipping her onto her back. She screams as the hogtied position smashes half her folded body underneath her on the Lords’ table. He wraps his hand around her throat and pins her down. The knife now pressed into the side of her face.
“What the fuck did you just say?” he growls.
She tries to catch her breath. “Ashtyn … I know where she is.”
He squeezes her throat so tight it cuts off her air, and she flops around the best she can.
“Bullshit,” he spits out, pushing the tip of the knife farther into her face, breaking the skin.
Her face is turning blue, her lips white. The struggle starts to lessen, and I place my hand on Saint’s arm. His wide and wild eyes meet mine. “I want her dead, but just in case she knows something useful, she’s better alive for now.”
He lets go of her throat and removes the knife, stepping back. She rolls onto her side and gasps for breath. “If you’re lying…”
“I’m not,” she cries. “I promise.” She’s choking out sobs.
We both look over at Luke, and he’s staring straight ahead. He gives her away. The fact that he hasn’t said anything means he knows the truth. Whitney isn’t lying.
Haidyn gets everyone’s attention as he jumps up from the pew behind Lake, walks down the aisle, and slams the double doors open when he leaves.
I look over at Kashton and he’s staring at Whitney, face white as a ghost.
“Even if we found her today, we wouldn’t be able to collect her,” Saint had said to me in their office at Carnage. “The guys aren’t ready. She’d be dead in a matter of hours.”