Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
My road to bliss.
It won’t be long now.
Chapter 33
Clyde
The dead don’t start giving off the sickly smell of rot until hours later. The bodies on either side of me are still fresh, and while there are two layers of plastic separating me from each, I could be fooled that I’m resting in the hard bed of the truck with men who are only sleeping.
The driver doesn’t try to make the journey bearable for me, and I’m being shaken as if I’m a nugget of gold the driver is attempting to separate from mud and pebbles.
Then again, maybe I’m the dirt? Maybe Bracer lied when he whispered for me to play dead before pulling the trigger, and I am in fact just a body, temporarily inhabited by a soul that refuses to leave.
If I’m alive, how did he fool everyone? Did he shoot into the air, aiming so close to me it seemed believable enough? Did he always keep a pistol loaded with blanks on his person, for situations like this one? I wouldn’t put that past him. I also can’t work out the reason he would be helping me in the first place, since Bracer and I have never been anything close to best buds. If anything, I’ve been avoiding his requests to influence my uncle about Roy for a while now.
Another bump, and then a beep I know from somewhere but can’t place. It’s so hard to focus on the outside world when pressed between two men I’ve killed. I’m no blushing flower. I’ve killed before, and I’ve taken the bodies to Bracer’s crematorium, but—
That’s it. That’s the sound. The beeping his back gate makes when opening.
But he wouldn’t save me just to throw me into the fire alive… would he? I don’t know anything anymore.
Either way, my life as I know it is over. I shot Puck in public, and while stabbing Kalash to death could have been hidden, that can’t. And yet I don’t regret it. Because otherwise, that baseball bat would have landed on Road’s head.
I chose him over my club. And if I were to be honest with myself, I’ve been choosing him over my club for a while now. What does that say about me?
I should feel guilt, loathe myself for being a piece of filth without honor, ready to betray his family for good dick. Only the Hell’s Butchers haven’t felt like family for a long time now, and my relationship with Road is… it’s not so simple at all.
What started as a chance to explore my sexuality turned into trust, intimacy, and a connection that felt safer than any of the friendships I made with my club brothers. With him, I can be myself. He won’t begrudge me for not being the kind of man I’m expected to be, or laugh at my vulnerabilities.
How could I not choose him, when he risked his life trying to talk to me?
I’m loyal. I’ve just changed who I'm loyal to.
My thoughts freeze when the engine stops. I hope that if I am to be loaded into the oven, I’ll get the mercy of a bullet to the head first, but that does not mean I’ll go without a fight.
The truck shifts under someone’s weight, and I hear boots on the bed of the vehicle, sense them right next to my feet.
My heart works overtime, as if to make up for the dead silence of the bodies next to me. I hear the click of the safety being taken off before my bag is unzipped and I face the muzzle of a gun.
“Now, we can talk,” Bracer says in a voice that sends a chill down my spine. I regret brushing off his requests so many times.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been on this side of the gun though, so I meet his eyes to show no fear. “Sure. Let’s. Why’d you save me just to threaten me here?”
Bracer shakes his head. “Because you can still be useful. But first, explain since when you’ve been working with the Vultures.”
My heart drops. Of course. What other logical conclusion could there be?
“I’m not—”
Bracer leans down and pushes the gun in my face. “Don’t fucking test me, Clyde. I’ve had enough trouble dealing with your fucking uncle. Getting rid of you will be no chore for me. Are you working with them to get rid of Grizzly? I’m not gonna let a kid like you become the new prez. Over my dead body!”
I hold my hands up. I’ve seen Bracer pack a whole magazine into a man, and I’m not going to risk sharing that fate. “We’re a thing! I mean… Roadkill and I. I’m gay.” Saying it out loud makes my palms sweaty and my stomach clench, but it needed to be done. In the twisted logic of club life, this will still be better than the alternative—admitting to working with the Vultures.