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)
Road stares at me, his eyes almost black, then snaps out of it and pulls up his jeans. “Jesus, how many books do you read a year to come up with that stuff? Should I make some shelves for you?”
I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. “What? Did you judge me for my muscles and excellent wrestling skills? I can be a deep thinker.”
“Then it’s a good thing you failed to notice I’m shallow like the cats’ water bowl,” Road mumbles, rolling to his back. I let him take me with him, and soon he’s spread out under me on the dusty floor, fingers playing with my hair.
“Works for me. You’ll be easy to handle.” I can’t help myself and delve in for another deep kiss, playing with his tongue, enjoying his heat.
I don’t know how much time passes while we make out like two horny teens, but a sound of the door unlocking makes me pull away and stagger to my feet.
Road picks himself up with less hurry, and I don’t know if he’s just less wary of his friends’ reactions to what they might find here, or if he’s so set on owning every bit of our relationship now that he doesn’t care what they think. Regardless, when he winks at me, I’m ready to go again. Or, I would be if the footsteps weren’t ever closer.
My face falls when I see Prophet’s grim expression and the machine gun in his hands.
Chapter 46
Road
I swallow and open my drying mouth to speak. My friend of fifteen years wouldn’t possibly off me on a vote… would he? I step in front of Clyde regardless.
“He had nothing to do with it,” I say even though Clyde had everything to do with my actions in the past few months.
Prophet shakes his head and opens the cell. “I don’t have time for this drama. We’re fucking surrounded and realized too late. If you two don’t prove yourself tonight, we might all be dead by the end of this night.” He pushes the machine gun into my hands while I’m still processing what he’s said, and a sense of peace sets in immediately.
If this is not a false alarm, and armed men have snuck into Vulture Hollow, we’re still in danger. But it’s a danger as familiar as breathing. This, I know how to deal with, and I’ll prove to Prophet and my entire club that despite all the bullshit I threw at them lately, I am still loyal.
“What about Clyde?” I ask, now actually hearing the muted noise of the shootout happening somewhere above. We did a decent job on the soundproofing of the cellar.
Prophet eyes him, then pulls out a handgun and passes it to Clyde. “Don’t make me regret this. We need all hands on deck. Show me you’re not loyal to those bastards anymore.”
Clyde nods and checks the ammo in the gun. “I will. They showed me they’re not my family.”
Maybe this is not the time or place for it, but I’m overcome by an itch deep at the pit of my stomach, and it only eases when I squeeze Clyde’s shoulder. It’s a brief touch, but it’s firm, reassuring, and when our gazes meet, we both know he has a new family now.
“Don’t die.”
Clyde smirks and shoves me with his shoulder to follow Prophet first. I love that attitude in him.
Prophet slips, but Clyde grabs his arm, saving him from a fall. “The fuck?” he mutters, looking at the floor, and I can only hope he doesn’t realize cum is what almost made him fall over.
I ignore the stain and run up the stairs first. The machine gun is loaded, so in case our enemies infiltrated the clubhouse already, I’ll greet them with a long series of surprises straight from its muzzle. There’s no time to ask Prophet what the exact situation is and whether the civilians are safe at least.
The hidden door slams open, and it’s as if the air changed its consistency around me, growing dense and heavy with noise. Some of the guys are throwing us expectant looks eying Clyde as if he’s a grenade about to explode in their faces, but most of them are rushing outside, so we follow.
I spot many of our civilians running toward the entrance to the caves right behind the clubhouse, but it’s mostly women and children. The stream of people is a blur, yet I do notice many of them watching me as if I’m the danger. I have no doubt I look menacing with Isaac’s blood on me and the machine gun in my hands. I’ll protect them anyway.
The wire fence around the clubhouse allows us to see the swarm of motorcycles and their riders, many of them in helmets covering their faces. They’re like hornets chasing the man who kicked their nest, held back by a curtain. Their stings, just like their bullets, might still kill.