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)
So I growl. It’s pure, primal, and communicates without words how I feel about even discussing this option.
They would kill Clyde, though most likely torture him first. Cut his hair, pluck out his pretty blue eyes, break his teeth, and burn the club tattoo off his back.
I won’t let that happen. I won’t.
Prophet gets up, and I swear, if he betrays me right now, I’m done no matter what Vulture Hollow has given me in the past.
“We do not give up our people, and Clyde Turner belongs to the Vultures now,” he says sternly, watching his opponent beyond the fence. He’s like the warrior king I need right now, and I could kiss his damn signet for this declaration.
“Damn right,” I shout, rising to my feet too, because if my prez is ready to stand with me, I will do the same for him. My flesh feels stiff, anticipating a quick bullet to rip through me. When it doesn’t happen as I face the Butchers gathered on the other side of the fence, my brothers stand too, ready to defend all that’s dear to me.
“He’s our people now,” Martin states, and the iciness melts from me despite the ongoing danger. This will be bloody, but I’m more than ready to risk my own life—and even that of others—if it means Clyde has a chance.
Grizzly raises his hand and urges someone forward with a gesture. “You sure about that? How about a swap then?”
My heart stops. A Butcher comes to Grizzly’s side with a woman in a black dress, and in the stark white lights, he reveals to us that he has Brigid.
This time, it’s Prophet whose arm I have to grab when he attempts to bolt over the cement wall. I need Harvey’s help from the other side to hold him back.
“You fucker! You shit-eating maggot! How dare you bring her into this?” Prophet yells with the fury of a thousand vengeful gods.
Grizzly laughs. “All’s fair in love and war.”
I can’t fucking breathe. Brigid is like a mother to Prophet. For many of us Vultures, she’s as close to a mother figure we ever had. Vulture Hollow is her land, and she gave it to us as our home. She might not wear our patches or vote, but she is the heart of our MC, and we can’t give her up. Even I can’t make that decision now, because Clyde is like air and water to me, but I also cannot doom the club for him. Those guys are my family. Brigid is my family. But so is Clyde, and it’s ripping me apart, as if the Butchers tied a rope to each of my limbs, attached them to their bikes and are now pulling.
There’s only one way to make it stop.
“I’ll go. You can have me!” I say, cutting through the jeers on the other side of the fence.
Chapter 47
Clyde
My brain is slow at processing what I’ve just heard, still stuck on the Butchers taking Brigid hostage. But when it hits me, it’s like driving my bike into a brick wall.
I grab Road’s wrist and force him to meet my eyes. “No! No fucking way.”
I flinch when the scarring on his face—my fault—tightens, and the distorted switchblade tattooed around his eye shuts partially. He leans toward me, hissing out each word so intensely I can even feel their heat on my lips.
“There’s no chance I’ll let them take you or Brigid either. They hate you more, so it should be me.”
My breath shallows as I stare at him, unable to blink. All I know is that I’m not letting him go, because if I do, I’ll never see him again, unless as a corpse, and I’m not allowing that to happen.
I could strangle Prophet for the way he looks at Road with hope. Or is that just my imagination, since he’s only a blur on the periphery of my focus on Road?
“Let’s just try and take the shot,” I whisper with my stomach in knots, but I already know that’s unacceptable with Grizzly’s gun so close to Brigid’s head.
“Tick-tock, boys!” my uncle yells. “I don’t need Roadkill, but if you’re so in love, you’re free to join your sweetheart.”
I know he’s mocking us, but when Road swallows, never once looking away from my face, I can’t fully feel the anger, because the snark doesn’t affect how we feel about each other. Everyone can see it, and it’s both exhilarating and dangerous. Whichever one of us goes will suffer the consequences.
“Road that’s suicide. Stand down,” Harvey growls in a low voice.
The selfish part of me itches for Road to be firm, to show how much he needs me, even though that would ruin us both. But I want him safe most of all, so I shake my head, ready to venture out into the empty space between the two clubs. “It’s okay.”