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)
“Negotiating would imply we have a mutual interest.” His sneer swoops across us to the Kings at our back.
“We do,” I urge.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Keeping you from getting all your brothers killed,” Callan informs him, his posture ramrod straight, his tone ice cold. If I didn’t know him, I’d piss my pants under his wrath if it bored down on me.
“Don’t be stubborn, Carver. If Tyler gave a shit about you, he would come out here himself.”
“You don’t get to talk about our pres. You’re the traitor whore who started all this.”
Callan’s fingers flex. If Carver keeps throwing insults at me, a knife will be lodged in the center of his head any second.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I seethe, rage building.
“Carver.” My stomach dips as Bear’s voice carries from the club’s doorway. “What’s going on?”
“The Kings are looking for Ty.”
“Let them in.” Bear jerks his chin and turns to walk back inside.
“Fuck no,” Carver spits to the ground.
“Carver,” Bear warns, turning back around to face him.
“I’m VP, not you.” Carver squares his shoulders, turning threateningly toward Bear. A chill erupts up my spine. I have to force air into my lungs, my fingers curling around the metal poles of the gate.
Callan tugs my shoulder to move me behind him.
“You either open the gate or we come through it,” Callan cautions, drawing his focus back to us.
Turning his glare to Callan, Carver moves toward the gate, facing the Kings boldly. “I’m getting sick of you threatening us.”
“Then don’t make me.”
“You’re outnumbered and outgunned. Trust me,” I advise. “Do you want to die today?”
He contemplates my words, flitting his gaze to the army behind us, lifting his arm to see past the sun’s glare. “Fine, whatever.” Sauntering over to the control panel, he presses a button, and the gates open.
“Leave the bikes,” Callan calls out to his brothers before entering the Devils’ lair.
Carver disappears through the front door, and Callan grips my hand, leading me inside. Only Monster, Grease, and Cutter follow us. The tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating inside these walls. I’ve spent most of my life within this clubhouse. Now, it’s a stranger to me.
Bear is sitting at a table in the main room. Carver joins him, taking the second of the four chairs. There are a few lingering brothers, but nothing compared to the force Callan brought with him.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, walking up to Bear and resting a hand on his shoulder in greeting. Placing a hand over mine, he squeezes warmly before pushing it away. Dropping my arm to my side, I step back beside Callan, a phantom burn sparking where the Devil tattoo still colors my skin.
“Tyler’s in the wind,” Bear states.
“Since when?” Callan asks.
Carver taps his finger against the table, his knee bouncing. “Since we got a tip that your old man is still breathing after all.”
Ignoring Carver, Callan drags a chair out, dropping into it. He lets my hand go, and Cutter takes his place beside me.
“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you didn’t know Tyler was meeting with our pres the night he was shot.”
“We didn’t. There’s a lot of shit Tyler didn’t make us aware of.” Bear side-eyes Carver with gritted teeth.
“He’s the pres, he doesn’t need to. He was trying to form an alliance for the club’s growth,” Carver sneers.
“Do you know where he’s hiding?”
Carver runs his tongue over his teeth, tsking. “Your old man wanted that shipment for himself and attacked Tyler.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
Quicker than lightning, Monster is behind Carver, wrenching his head back with a fist in his hair, a jagged hunting knife at his throat. “Be careful with that lying tongue or I’ll cut it from your mouth,” Monster warns with a sadistic hook of his lip.
Bear’s hands shoot out. “Everyone, take a breath. We don’t want trouble.”
“Trouble found you,” Cutter announces. “We want that piece of shit—or we can start slicing into people. Your choice.”
“I’m telling the truth. We don’t know where he went. He got a call, packed a bag, and was gone.” Bear looks at me, and my heart shatters at his feet. I want to go to him, to tell Callan to stop this, but I’m a King now. I love Callan. He’s my home and has a right to retribution. It’s imperative they know where my loyalty lies.
“What about you? Did he tell you where he was going?” Monster asks, tightening his hold on Carver, the blade pinching his skin hard enough to draw blood.
“No.” Carver blows out through pinched lips, spittle spraying the table.
“If he crawls out of the hole he’s scurried into, it would be in this club’s best interest to call me,” Callan tells Bear. “Your pres called a meet and left ours with three bullet wounds in him to die in the dirt like a fucking animal. Whatever bullshit story he told you to cover his ass is just that.”