Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Here, kid.” I pull a couple twenties from my pocket and hold them out. She wastes no time snatching them from my hand.
“You won’t get change.” Her old man guffaws as she skips off, poking her tongue out at him.
“She’s got spirit.” I chuckle.
“I call her Rogue. Never known a kid like her. She’s older than her time and more like me than I care to admit.” He looks me up and down. “Speaking of kids who are like their old man…” My whole life people have stated how much I resemble my dad. He’s a good-looking bastard, so I have no complaints. “You got something for me?”
Checking our surroundings, I pull the envelope from my inside pocket and hand it to him.
“If this intel is good, tell your pres we’ll owe him.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of, kid.” Plunging his hand into his pocket, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers me one, stuffing his own between his lips.
“No thanks. We done?”
A firm nod.
I turn on my heel just as the kid comes barreling out of the store, chewing on a Twizzler. She opens the bag and pulls one out, handing it to me with a grin. “Thanks.” I chuckle.
Most expensive Twizzler I’ve ever had.
ROGUE
Present
“Oh my god, you’re the guy.” My mouth drops. I remember that day so vividly, all but his face. My dad died a couple days later, changing my world forever. I stand, the realization hitting me in the face. “What was in the envelope?” I ask. It could be the reason for his death.
“I’ll give you what was in the envelope, but it will be a lot to process.”
“I can handle it.” He searches my eyes as silence hangs between us.
Finally, he nods. “So, thirteen huh?” I raise a brow, and he rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t have a thing for you, Rogue. That came later.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I checked up on you when you attended college.”
My heart beats a mile a minute. “We never crossed paths.” I shake my head. I may not have remembered his face because of the trauma of my dad’s death, but there’s no way I would have forgotten his face as an adult. I only saw a photograph and became obsessed.
“I never approached you. I was glad you got on living your life. I had no fucking clue the Devils had their claws in you.”
“So, you stalked me,” I tease. He blows out a breath and brushes a hand through his hair.
“I know how it sounds. Hell, Rogue, when I saw you…” He forms an o with his lips, letting out a rush of air.
“When you saw me, what?” I hedge, kicking his boot playfully.
“I knew you were mine, meant for me.” He grasps my face as he closes the space between us. “There’s a lot I’m not sure of, but never that. When I walked in and saw you sitting at a table in Ray’s, I knew fate brought you there.”
My lungs seize, my heart refusing to beat as it held still to soak up his words. “I know that’s a lot to hear. But there it is, Rogue.”
Tears leak from my eyes, and I choke on the emotion filling me up. It always felt instantaneous from the very first time I saw his picture. Fate. We’ve been dancing around the inescapable from the start. We’re meant for each other. Wiping a tear from my cheek, Callan wets his lips and I follow the action, desperate to kiss him.
Closing his eyes, he breathes heavy. “The envelope I gave your dad had evidence of a rat within the Devil Skull Rider’s club.”
“Wait—what?” All the joy from his first confession shatters.
“At the time, Tyler’s dad, their pres, was in talks of having the Devils become a branch of the Kings.”
“No.” Lies. The Devils hate the Kings. I wobble my head in his grip.
“Rogue, it’s the truth. The Devils only function freely because my old man allowed them to. They wanted affiliation with the Kings to boost their reputation and run jobs for us.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t it happen?”
“Because we found out Tyler’s dad was the fucking rat. It was all part of the fed’s operation. They wanted someone in our club, and to get his sentence reduced, Tyler’s dad went along with it.”
“This can’t be true. Tyler would have never been allowed to become pres.” Sins of the father get held against you in our small circle of the world.
“No one but your dad knew. That’s what the envelope contained.”
I think I’m having a heart attack. I clutch at my chest, my lungs refusing me air. “I need to see this evidence.”
Moving across the room, he opens a cabinet and flicks through files before pulling a thick blue folder out. Dropping it onto the desk, he unfastens it and tips out the contents. Image after image splay across the wood. My fingers nimbly sift through them. Pain throbs in my head as the evidence shows Tyler’s dad meeting with men next to a black sedan. The license plate is exposed and enlarged, and names and badge numbers are written in red next to it. The men he’s with stand in smart suits with badges on their hips, looking away from whoever took the pictures. There are stacks of paperwork. Written statements and correspondence notes of his meetings with the feds.