Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“War,” Vike whispered and let out his own fake moan.
“Yep,” Rudge said. “It just happened. Jizzed all over my fucking boxers.” Rudge walked to Ky and threw an arm around him. He was mid to late twenties, maybe, and fucking cut to pieces.
I knew this because Vike lifted Rudge’s shirt and said, “Shit, Rudge, you’re still fucking cut.” A massive Union Jack was tattooed on his chest, along with a British Bulldog smoking a pipe on his stomach.
“Always.” He threw a few rapid air punches at Vike. “And still killing people with one punch.” Fucker was fast. He looked like a good fighter. “You got a room for me, big boy?”
“Fuck yeah,” Vike said, and they disappeared into the mass of brothers moving to the bar to drink.
“Fuck. If it rains, it fucking pours,” Ky muttered as he went to find Styx.
As everyone walked away from the table, my eyes fell on the body still on the floor. A hand came on my shoulder. Someone moved to my other side. I looked up to find it was Crow and Cowboy. “Guessing one of you did this?” Crow said.
I shook my head. Cowboy did too . . . then I met Cowboy’s eyes and knew we both were thinking the same thing.
Sia.
“Well,” Crow looked down at the patch in his hand. “Looks like I got a fucking club to run.”
“Congrats, you deserve it,” I said sincerely. Cowboy shook his hand.
“You’re welcome to come back,” Crow said. “Back home. There’s always a place for you at my table.”
I met Cowboy’s eyes and knew he felt the same as me. “Home is Texas now, Crow. But thanks.”
He nodded. “Thought as much, but wanted you to know it anyway.” He went to walk away, but I took hold of his arm.
“You . . .” I cleared my throat. “You take care of . . .?” I trailed off, not even wanting to say their names.
Crow’s smile was nothing but fucking evil as it spread on his lips. “Oh, mon ami, I fucking took care of them all.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “In fact, I replay that shit in my head every night just to send me to sleep.” He walked off, and I took a quick exhale. Jase and those other fuckers were gone.
Justice had been served.
The last tether that had pulled at me since that night finally broke free. Cowboy threw his arm around my shoulder, kissed my head, and asked, “Drink?”
I nodded, about to go with him when Tanner came and stood beside me. He rocked awkwardly on his feet. “Can we talk?”
My eyes narrowed, but feeling an encouraging squeeze from Cowboy on my arm, I nodded. I followed Tanner outside to the bench looking out on the mural of Hades and Persephone.
Tanner took a seat. He waited until I sat beside him. He took a smoke from his cut and lit it up. Taking a long inhale, he breathed it out and then bowed his head. “I get it now,” he said, his voice fucking rough. In fact, now I looked at Tanner, he looked like shit. His skin was paler than normal, and dark circles ringed his eyes.
He turned to look at me. “I get why you had an issue with me.” He laughed, but there was no fucking humor in it. “I mean, I got that you probably looked at me with my white-power tattoos and, with you being . . .”
“A half-breed mongrel?” I hissed, still finding some leftover anger.
Tanner’s face fell. “I would’ve called you that once. And worse. I would have made your life hell.” He sucked in a breath, and then admitted sadly, “And I would’ve sanctioned what was done to your folks . . . I might have even been there myself.” I jumped to my feet, fucking hands clenched. I turned on him, ready to kick the shit out of him. The fucker was waiting, arms down and ready to take it. That gave me pause. Tanner swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Go on,” he rasped, flicking his smoke to the ground. I breathed, trying to calm down. When I didn’t move, he repeated, “Go on. I fucking deserve it.”
“Why did you leave?”
Tanner closed his eyes at my question. He slumped back down to the bench. “Fell for a Mexican bitch.” I knew this. But I didn’t believe it was the whole reason. Looking at him now, I knew I wasn’t gonna get more than what he was offering. He ran his hand down his face. He laughed without mirth again. “She’s Quintana’s daughter.”
“We’re at war with Quintana.”
That pained laugh again. “I know.”
I eyed him. “We’re at war with the Klan.”
He stilled. “I know.”
In that moment my hatred for him fell away. I had Sia and Cowboy. Looking at Tanner, big ex-Nazi body slumped in defeat on the old wooden bench, I knew he was in a whole world of pain.