Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Did you tell him how you felt?” she asks, genuinely concerned now.
“Yep,” I tell her flatly, struggling to remove the whiskey bottle from her grip when she takes it from me.
“Did you love him?” she asks.
I sigh and glare at the whiskey. “Yep.”
“And you told him you loved him?”
“For fuck’s sake, yes. I told him I loved him. Why?”
“And he sent you home to help keep you safe, and wants nothing in return?” she asks, as though the notion is preposterous.
“Yes,” I bite out.
“He’s protective of you, then?”
“Yes,” I groan.
“That means he cares,” she tells me like it’s a good thing.
“I never said he didn’t,” I grumble.
Her look softens, and she lets me take the bottle of whiskey. I pour the glass and drink it all down again.
“What’d he say when you told him you loved him?”
Sighing, I stare at the empty glass in my hand like it holds all the answers. “He didn’t say it back.”
I look up at her, seeing her eyes glisten more obviously now.
“Two days later, he decided I should go home,” I add in a strained whisper.
Ingrid reaches past me, lifting the whiskey, and this time, she pours me a glass. Then, to my utter surprise, she pours one for herself as well.
“Well, then. I’m wicked confused,” she says as she sips the drink, then makes a face. Then sips again.
I swear this is the first time I’ve seen her ever drink.
I hold my glass up, gently clanking it against hers. “Cheers to that,” I mutter.
CHAPTER 33
AXLE
“The repairs to the warehouse will start next week. Cops had to get involved, since it drew too much attention,” Drex is saying, while I clutch a tiny ketchup bottle in my hand for no fucking reason at all.
“The cops are just taking in the report and pretending to investigate, though,” Sledge offers.
My eyes focus on the small condiment, and I try not to think of being back in that hotel room. It seems like yesterday and years ago at the same time that we were locked inside our own little world for two short days.
“Hershel is starting to talk already. Said Pop was coming after us with all he had once he weakens us a little more. But that’s all he’s given us so far.”
“We need to find him and strike harder. But more skillfully this time. It feels like we’re constantly playing defense, and are one step behind on offense.”
“We’re playing their games too much and letting our strengths become our weaknesses. We have to…”
The words are drowned out as I get lost inside my own head, unaware of who is saying what or what is even being said. It all just sounds like background noise as my mind wanders to Maya.
The only good memories I had as a child were stolen from me, wiped out by one psychotic woman. A different breed of a psychotic woman gave me new good memories.
Didn’t realize that would affect me to this extent.
“Axle!” Drex shouting my name has my head lazily coming up to see all eyes are on me as I clutch the condiment bottle again.
“What?” I ask, bored with all this.
“Anything you’d like to add?” Drex asks me.
It’s been four days since Maya left. Four days I’ve not given a damn about anything else. Four days since I drove back to the warehouse and risked a possible ambush by driving alone, all to retrieve those fucking tiny condiment bottles.
I know it sounds ridiculous.
I know it’s pointless.
I guess it’s as good a time as any to try to get back to me.
“We’re running so many games to outsmart everyone that we’re getting to the point we’re outsmarting ourselves and losing track of the games we’ve started playing. We need to stop trying to be something we’re not, and we need to remind people who the fuck we are. But we can’t do that alone,” I say as I lean up on the dining room table of our temporary safe house.
“The guys are scattered right now. It’ll take a few days to bring them back—”
“I’m not talking about all the guys who could be compromised,” I say in interruption to Jude, my eyes leveling him. “I’m talking about pulling in an Ace who would be worth fifteen men.”
His jaw tightens, and I expect him to explode. I didn’t understand the intense hatred before toward Sarah. Now I get it. If Maya had been lying to me all along, after getting me to trust her, it would have fucking gutted me.
But this isn’t the time for grievances.
“You’re talking about bringing in AJ,” he states flatly, devoid of all emotion.
He looks around the table, noticing the way everyone is staring at him expectantly. Then his eyes return to mine.
“You sent your girl home to keep us all safe, even though it’s clear she’s the first thing you’ve ever given a damn about outside this club.” His gaze shifts to Sledge. “You’re still playing like you don’t suspect Liza, kissing her instead of killing her like you want to do, after she betrayed us twice as hard as AJ betrayed me.” He blows out a breath and stares down at the table. “I can put aside my own issues for the sake of the club if everyone else is doing their part. I’m not that fucking selfish or irrational.”