Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
He felt the men come up behind him as he nodded go to Georgie.
She looked back to her laptop.
“So, okay, before Jackson proved he was a total dick, he told me the neighbor’s name, which I think Eddie and Hank kept from us because I acted like a lunatic and I think they feared for her life.”
This was not an incorrect assumption.
“And?” he prompted.
“So, yeah, we got busy on Google and Facebook and we found her.”
He was not certain what the excitement was about.
“And this is good because…?”
She turned to look at him again, her eyes dancing. “Because she has friends.”
“Babe, not sure black-market bad guys have Facebook pages.”
“How about we check,” she suggested. “We’ve compiled pictures of all her male friends. Then we collected other info about her Facebook friends so we’d be ready to roll if this dude is one of them. I’ll click through and you let me know if any of them are the ones you saw Carlyle with at that bar.”
It was worth a go, so he lifted his chin.
She turned back to her laptop.
He leaned deeper into her and gave the screen his attention.
She clicked.
“No,” he said.
Another click.
“No.”
This went on for fifteen fucking clicks, he was getting over it when shit had to get done, and she hit her mousepad and the guy showed up on her screen.
“Fuck, that’s him.”
“Ohmigod,” Georgie breathed.
“Name,” Elvira demanded.
“Gary Bronson,” Georgiana told her.
“He’s one I looked up,” his fucking mother said. “What do you want? Address? Car he drives? What?”
Before anyone could answer, one of a cluster of cells sitting on the bar started sounding.
Since the screen said Kraken Calling, he knew it was Georgiana’s.
She snatched it up, engaged, put it to her ear, and his head dropped once again that day, this time in disbelief at what he heard and the no-nonsense tone in which it was said from his cute, sweet, skipping Georgie.
“Talk to me, bro,” Georgie demanded.
Honest to fuck, he had no idea if he wanted to laugh or shout.
“Can someone tell me what the fuck is happening?” Boz asked.
“Really?” Georgie squealed.
At that, Dutch lifted his head, put his hands on her hips and whirled her around to face him.
She was back to beaming.
“Where? Now? We’ll be there as soon as we can! Thanks! I owe you one! Text the address and we’re on our way! See you soon!” She hung up and cried, “They have Carlyle!”
Dutch put both hands to her thighs, got close to her face, and sucked in a massive breath.
“Okay, did we just spend an hour sitting around the table talking about doing what our women were sitting at the bar actually doing?” High sounded harassed.
“Seems like it,” Hop answered.
“Who’s Kraken?” Tack asked.
Tack didn’t miss much, and he was close, so he didn’t miss that.
“A street tough Georgie knows,” Dutch answered, staring up close in Georgie’s eyes.
“The chick that skips knows street toughs?” Arlo queried low.
“Brother, clearly she’s an all-rounder. You should see the woman in a robe. I’m gonna dream about that until the day I die,” Roscoe put in.
Dutch would not be surprised if his body started buzzing since the noise in his head was so goddamned loud.
“Am I in some kind of biker’s babe trouble?” she asked quietly.
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” he told her.
“That means I’m in some kind of biker’s babe trouble,” she surmised.
“I would tell you to be less you, but that would suck, because I like all that’s you. But I do not need Roscoe dreamin’ of you in your sweet robe.”
“I didn’t ask my sister to come to your place and throw a tantrum,” she pointed out. “And I didn’t ask Roscoe to be there to witness it. But since she arrived in full-bore drama, I couldn’t exactly take a sec and get dressed before I saved you from it.”
Dutch sighed.
“Are we gonna go get Carlyle?” she demanded.
He straightened from her but did it grabbing her hand and pulling her off the stool.
He then turned to the men. “Hound, Jag, with me and Georgie. We’re gonna need a safe house for Carlyle. Who’s on that?”
“He can stay up the mountain with Red and me,” Tack said. “Distance means more safety. And we got room. But if he’s as big as you say, we’ll need two, three guys on hand to lock him down if needed.”
“I’m up,” High said.
“I’m there too,” Shy added.
“And me,” Joker finished it.
“Right. We’re covered,” Tack decreed to Dutch.
“How big is he?” Tyra asked.
“Probably six nine, three hundred pounds,” Dutch told her.
“I better get to the grocery store,” she mumbled.
“I’m in,” Elvira said.
“Me too,” Tabby said.
“And me,” Keely put in.
“I’m on Gary Bronson and I want Snap, Chill and Dog with me,” Rush declared. “Keely, give us everything you got.”
Rush moved toward his mom.
“As discussed at the table, Pete, Boz, Arlo, you men are on the neighbor,” Tack reminded them. “We need to know everywhere the woman goes, get shots of anyone in and out of her house, anyone she meets with, anyone she even gives eyes to. Yeah?”