Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“And you?” she asked, worry filtering into her tone.
I gripped the side of her neck and pressed a hard, quick kiss to her lips. “Don’t worry about me, sweet girl. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse. I promise.”
She nodded. “Be careful.”
I brushed my thumb over her cheek. “Always.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jax
Blakely was a damn good person to choose for a distraction. She was barely in the store for two seconds, and she had already begun screaming about the chip selection, giving me time to get the bike hidden by the trees. As I worked on getting the car door unlocked, she switched to complaining about her “douchebag boyfriend”, and by the time I had the driver’s side door open, she was ranting about the quality of the gas.
I slid into the driver’s seat and began fucking with the wires until the car started. “Fuck yes,” I whispered. You could take the man out of the streets, but you sure as hell could never take the streets out of the man. This girl’s life was relying on me knowing how the hell to do a bunch of illegal shit.
I dialed Shaw’s number from heart as I tore out of the gas station parking lot, heading for the clubhouse and praying to whatever god that may be real that I didn’t get pulled over. Because if I did, this was going to look really fucking bad.
“Who the fuck—” Shaw growled.
“It’s me,” I told him before he could lose his shit and not let me get a word in. I’d called him on his burner, which meant no one outside of us should’ve had the number. He was probably going to chew my ass out for calling him from a random phone, but he’d get over it. We had bigger fish to fry. “FAME, we’ve got a fucking problem.”
FAME was Shaw’s road name. The acronym stood for Fuck All My Enemies, and honestly, it worked for him. It’d been a joke when he mentioned it, but it stuck.
“What the fuck is going on, Agony?” he snapped, using my road name.
I quickly made a turn onto a side street so I could avoid the main highways where the asshole cops in this town tended to linger. “I figured out why the Bratva’s in town. The princess was kidnapped.”
Silence rang for about thirty seconds, but I knew he hadn’t dropped the call. “What the fuck do you mean the princess was kidnapped?!” Shaw finally barked.
I sighed, the speedometer inching toward ninety. The car was shaking badly. I clenched my fingers around the steering wheel, willing the damn car to make it to the clubhouse. “Pulled into a gas station. Blakely saw Amaliya in the backseat. She’s bound and drugged. Her eyes are open, but this girl ain’t seein’ a goddamn thing.”
“Mother fucker!” Shaw roared. “Did you steal the goddamn car, Agony?!” he shouted at me.
“What the fuck else did you expect me to do?!” I yelled back at him. “Fucking leave her there? Ride the fuck away like she wasn’t just laying there?”
“If the Bratva catches you, you’re dead, you know that? They’re not going to ask you fucking questions, Agony. They’re going to put a goddamn bullet between your eyes.”
“They won’t catch me, FAME,” I promised him. “Open the fucking gates.”
“GOAT!” Shaw barked. “Get the goddamn gates open right the fuck now. Digg, where the fuck are you going? I need you here.”
“Agony’s girl called me. She needs a ride here.”
“I swear to fucking God,” Shaw snarled. “I’m going to kick your fucking ass for this later, Agony, you hear me? We’re going to be in the middle of a fucking war.”
“Oh goddamn well,” I snapped at him. “We don’t abandon people in need.” With that, I ended the call. The clubhouse was up ahead, and Cameron was shoving open the gate. I slowed the car down just enough to safely turn onto the gravel lot. Arlo tore out of the lot on his bike, and then Cameron quickly slid the gate back shut and locked it.
Shaw stormed over to the car as I angled out of the driver’s seat, and before he could even raise his fist, I yanked open the back door. He cursed when he laid eyes on her. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. He jerked his head in the direction of the clubhouse. “Get her inside. It’s going to take her a while to come off of whatever she’s on.” He looked at Konrad, who was coming out of the clubhouse, Ace right behind him. I cut Amaliya’s bindings and then lifted her into my arms. “Konrad, you and Cameron get rid of this car. Ace, you’re with Amaliya until she wakes up and can give us some answers.”
The usually bratty boy nodded once, pushing open the clubhouse doors so I could carry her inside. I gently laid her on the couch, propping a pillow beneath her head and turning her face to the side in case whatever she’d been given made her vomit. Ace covered her with a blanket, being careful not to touch her, before grabbing a bar stool and setting it beside the couch.