Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Violet said he apologized to her for that, which was all that mattered to me. He didn’t owe me an apology. I sure as shit owed him one. But I didn’t think he’d be amenable to anything I had to say at that point.
Yes, he’d promised Violet he wouldn’t kill me, and he’d kept that promise. No need to make him reevaluate that.
Not yet, at least.
Plus, there were a lot of ways not to kill someone and make them want to die, and Swiss was an expert in such things.
“We’re designed for conflict,” Hansen said as his eyes skimmed over the men sitting at the table. “Bred for it.” “It’s going to be a part of this club and a part of our lives till we meet the reaper.” His gaze found me then Swiss. “But I will not have it tear this club apart from the inside out.” His voice raised an octave, hardening. “That’s how charters get destroyed. That’s how people die. If you don’t believe your brother has your back, you slip. I’m not burying another friend.” His thumped his chest. “I’m not telling an Old Lady her man died ’cause he was too fuckin’ stubborn to squash a beef. So this is gonna end.”
His chair screeched as he stood up.
“You two.” He pointed to me and Swiss. “Outside. Now.”
I stood immediately.
Swiss remained seated. “I’m not gonna fight him.” There was no denying the bite in his tone.”
“You sure as shit aren’t gonna open your heart to him over Cosmos,” Hansen’s expression contorted into one he didn’t often wear. One of authority that he rarely had to wield with us. “Up. Now.”
Swiss considered it for a split second then stood.
“Weapons on the table,” Hansen ordered.
I put my piece and the knife at my belt on the table. Swiss did the same, slower than me, though.
Colby clapped me on the shoulder as we made our way outside. “Your Old Lady’s gonna be pissed about this.”
My step stuttered. Though I’d considered Violet mine for years now, no one had ever called her my Old Lady out loud. She wouldn’t like the term, despite the importance of it. She definitely didn’t like the term ‘wife’ either, if the way the blood drained from her face when I mentioned it meant anything.
She was skittish about commitment. Rightfully so. If only her father wasn’t dead so I could kill him with my bare hands.
I had to keep reminding myself that titles didn’t mean shit. She was mine. With or without a ring or a piece of paper.
But fuck if I didn’t want her wearing my ring, walking down an aisle to meet me. To be mine in the eyes of the law, something I hadn’t respected in a long time.
Swiss and I shrugged off our cuts, him giving his to Hades, me giving mine to Colby.
We circled each other, neither of us moving toward the other.
“I’m gonna be in your life forever,” I informed him. “Because I’m gonna be in her life forever.”
He locked his jaw. “Don’t remind me.”
Swiss was my friend. My brother. He was a good man. So it fucked with me to have him stare at me like he’d be happy to see me bleeding out on the pavement.
“I’ll take care of her,” I vowed. “I love her.”
Swiss continued to glower at me. “You hurt her, you let any hurt come to her, I’ll forget some promises I made.”
I raised my chin in confirmation.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, loosening my shoulders. He was entitled to land the first punch. I’d betrayed him after all.
Swiss didn’t hesitate, his fist connecting with face.
He did not hold back.
VIOLET
Elden came to pick me up from my shift, as always. I was not alone in the café for even a second, and despite my shift ending before it got dark and my ability to park right across the street, Elden would not hear of me driving to and from. No one had caught the serial killer Sariah still believed we needed to start a podcast about.
I’d tried to dissuade her, but she was not a woman to be dissuaded.
I had a bad feeling about it. But maybe that was because finally, for the first time in a while, there were no secrets, conflicts or tragedies in my life, and I was uncomfortable, so I was trying to create them.
Not that a serial killer wasn’t a definite source of conflict and terror, it totally was. And someone really should’ve been investigating to make sure those women weren’t forgotten, but I just didn’t think we should be dragging ourselves into that. Not when we’d achieved a somewhat tentative peace.
I should’ve known better than to think my life was free of conflict when I was involved with the Sons of Templar.
Elden sauntered into the café like usual.