Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Here,” Malakai says, after about half an hour of driving.
The old house I remember from the few times I came here when I was younger hasn’t changed. It has aged, sure, and the white paint that was once bright has now faded. But otherwise, the two-story home surrounded by lush gardens is still the same. I wonder if Slater ever found anyone? I never knew if he had a family or not. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was purely to say what needed to be said and that was all.
“Ready?” Koda asks, looking back at me.
I nod, and the two men get out of the car first, glancing around, before encouraging me out. I’m shaking as I climb out. Every movie I’ve ever seen about people being shot from a distance comes crashing into my mind, and I nervously look around. I take a step closer to Koda, not realizing I’m doing it until my hand curls around his arm and he jerks a little. I let him go quickly and step back. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I ... I just started imagining getting shot.”
His eyes fall to mine, and I see something very real in them for a second before he shuts it down. Instead, he surprises me by stepping closer and curling an arm around my waist, wedging me to his side. I could still get shot, of course, but it makes me feel a whole lot safer. And that’s nice.
We walk up to the front door of Slater’s home and Malakai knocks. We wait for a few long minutes, and I swallow, wondering if maybe he’s not home. It’s a possibility, of course. But, after a few minutes, the door opens and a familiar face appears. Slater wasn’t a great deal older than me when I was a teenager, probably in his early twenties. He’s now somewhere in his thirties.
And equally as breathtaking.
I’ve not seen many men like him. So utterly terrifying, and yet you can’t look away from the dark pits of his eyes.
Black as the night.
Skin olive.
Hair long and thick, flowing in messy waves around his shoulders.
Dark eyebrows, one with a scar running through, that continues a little way down the side of his face.
Big lips.
Huge body, muscled and tattooed.
Completely empty soul.
He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the three of us, his eyes mostly moving from Malakai, to Koda, back to Malakai again. They’re not wearing their jackets, but they’re big men, scary, and intimidating. Though, I’m certain not much intimidates Slater.
“Slater,” I say, deciding to make the first move, considering nobody else seems to want to. “I don’t know if you remember me, but ... well ... you probably do remember me. I just ...”
I’m faltering. I’m scared. Terrified as soon as I tell him who I am he’ll do something crazy and I’ll end up in my father’s hands. Hell, he might even decide to kill me himself and get the money.
I take a shaky breath.
Koda and Malakai are here.
“It’s me,” I say softly. “Charlene.”
Slater’s eyes finally move to me, and he stares at me. Of course he can’t see much, I’m decked out. So, slowly, I remove the sunglasses, the scarf, and the wig, letting my red hair flow down and around my shoulders.
“I need your help.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, and my heart is racing so hard I feel it pounding against my ribcage. Malakai has his hand near his back pocket, no doubt ready to pull a gun if need be.
“You got a death wish, kid?” Slater rumbles, his voice exactly as I remember.
Husky and a little broken.
But he always called me kid.
Always.
I smile, and my lips tremble. “It would appear I do, yes, but you’re the only person who might be able to help me. Can we come in?”
Slater looks to Malakai, then Koda. “I’ll let you in, when you tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ hangin’ out with members of the Iron Fury MC.”
How in the hell did he know that?
Oh, God.
Does my father already know where I am?
“Does he know already?” I stammer. “Oh, God. He does. We need to ...”
“Calm down,” Slater orders, voice hard. “He don’t know shit. I know who they are. If you’re here to cause problems, fuckin’ don’t.”
Malakai studies Slater then shakes his head. “Care about this girl. Want her safe. Not here to cause problems, unless you’ve got a problem to cause.”
Slater, and his hard face, holds Malakai’s stare for a while, then he nods and steps back, letting us inside.
We move to the living room and sit at a round dining table. Slater does not sit. He stands. I imagine men like Slater rarely sit.
From this chair, he looks even more intimidating.
He’s huge.
“What do you want?” he demands, voice gruff.
“I want your help,” I tell him. “I might be wrong, really, really wrong, but I have a feeling you and my father aren’t working together because you’re loyal to him. I have a feeling you’re there because you have to be. I always felt it. I always saw the way you looked at him. Because of that, I’m hoping ... we’re hoping ... that you’ll help us take him down.”