Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Don’t be afraid, baby. Do you love me?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Then that’s all that matters.”
I dress quickly, not liking leaving her like this. The sooner I get this club business done the better. But something tells me it’s going to be a long night.
“I’ll be back later,” I say, throwing on my cut.
I turn to leave, but her voice stops me.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but don’t come back tonight.”
Alarm bells go off in my head, but I don’t show it. On the outside I remain perfectly composed. “Why?” I ask calmly.
“Because I need time to think.”
“About what?” My tone is sharp.
“This is happening very quickly.”
“I’m aware, but so what?”
“It’s a lot for me to take in right now. I’m just asking for some time.”
I hate that she’s asking for time. That she has doubts. But I’ll give her what she’s asking. Reluctantly.
In the doorway, I pause. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She nods and pulls the sheet higher around her. I don’t want to leave, but she doesn’t want me here and I need to get back to the clubhouse. Without another word, I walk out and close the door behind me.
Walking to my bike, I feel a heavy weight around my heart.
She’s not telling me something.
And whatever it is, it’s got her frightened.
ARES
“We have to get rid of the bodies,” Jack says.
We’re in Church. It’s late.
“We could take them over the border, stick them in a boat, set it alight, and send them downstream somewhere.” Ghoul has a talent for creative body disposal. “I’m up for it.”
“No, they get turned to dust tonight.” Jack turns to me. “You, Shooter, and Dakota Joe take the bodies to Seamus at the crematorium. He’s expecting you.”
“Where are they?”
Dakota Joe pulls a face. “Stinking up the back of my truck.”
“What about the fucker who got away?” Venom asks.
A thorough search of the now smoldering cornfields and a mile radius surrounding the grow barn didn’t turn up any sign of the third vigilante.
“He’ll be hurting,” Jack says.
“And he’ll be mad as fuck,” Shooter adds.
Jack drums his fingers against the table. “He doesn’t have his buddies anymore, and it will take him some time to regroup. By then, we’ll have more intel, so it’ll be easier to track him down.”
“How is Gambit?” Banks asks.
“Doc is at the hospital with him. He’s going to be okay,” Jack says.
When The Three broke through our security with silencers attached to their guns, Gambit was shot once. The security guards multiple times. Gambit was still alive and conscious when I last saw him. The guards weren’t so lucky.
“The Three must’ve been watching us and took advantage of a vulnerable point in our security line to attack,” Shooter says.
“What about the locals who were loading the truck?” Merrick asks him.
“They pulled out of the parking lot minutes before it happened. Alchemy was with them.”
“Out of curiosity, do we know what deadly sin they were planning on using?” Earl asks.
“No way of knowing. The only two sins left were gluttony or envy. Maybe in their twisted brains they thought our crops fed the marijuana-smoking gluttony of the people who use it? I don’t fucking know. It’s hard to untwist the twisted.” Jack leans forward in his chair. “Now, everyone get home and get some shut-eye. Tomorrow, we clean up the rest of this mess. I want to see all eyes back here by seven.”
When Jack calls an end to Church, Shooter and I join Dakota Joe in his truck and drive out to see Seamus at the crematorium.
Seamus is a sixth-generation crematorium technician. His family has been turning the dead residents of Flintlock to ash for more than a hundred years.
Wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and a greasy trucker’s cap, he grins as he hits the buttons on the panel next to the retort, where one of the psychopaths lies in a cremation capsule.
“Want to tell me who’s in my chamber today?” Years of tobacco chewing has turned his teeth brown. “Ain’t nobody famous, are they?”
“Ain’t nobody who is going to be missed,” I say.
“Fair enough.” He shrugs. “Two bodies is going to take me around eight hours. You want to pick up the cremains in the morning?”
“We’ll send the prospect over to collect them.”
“Cool. Before I forget…” he passes me a folded piece of paper, “… it’s the fingerprints Jack requested.”
Jack wants the fingerprints of the deceased so Pinkwater or one of Paw’s contacts at the FBI can run them through the national database.
Dakota Joe hands Seamus an envelope stuffed with cash. “As always, the Kings of Mayhem are appreciative of your assistance and your discretion.”
“Hey, no problem.” He grins again. “You turn ‘em, and I’ll burn ‘em.”
It’s late by the time I get back to the clubhouse. In a couple of hours, the sun will be up, and we’ll be back to cleaning up this mess.