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)
We just need to find out who did it. Who left him hanging off a hook and bloodied, with a crow inside his chest…
But something else strikes me from the left field.
I remember what Roadkill told me before I lost consciousness. Even worse, what I answered. A sudden bout of nausea hits me so hard some of the water I’ve just drunk rises in my gullet.
No no no no.
“Roadkill. Is he dead?”
Please be dead.
Grizzly sighs, only to tear my ribs apart without even trying. “The fucker’s about as dead as you are. I swear, that cockroach might even survive being shot point blank with a shotgun,” he says and opens his mouth, as if he were about to spit over his shoulder. He does stop himself since we’re in a hospital, and rolls his eyes. “But he’s worse off than you. It’ll be a while until he goes back to being a menace.”
The nausea is back in my throat, because all I can think of is that cocky half-smile on Roadkill’s bloodstained face as he announced he’d want to fuck me. Like not doing that was his one regret in life.
I hate him.
I want him.
But I hate him more. Because he lured me into an answer I would have never given if I hadn’t been sure I was dying. No one can know this, and especially not some fuck from the Vulture Hollow MC. I’m hot and cold all at once as I consider my next step.
I have to kill him. There’s no other way out of this.
I clear my throat. “He’s in the hospital?” Hospitals are considered neutral ground, but if I have to make an exception for Roadkill, I fucking will.
Grizzly snorts and adjusts his worn leather jacket. “Literally a few doors down the hall. You couldn’t make this shit up. God’s turning our lives into a bad sitcom.”
“We are the Hell’s Butchers. He’s not gonna make this easy on us.” I try to chuckle, but it hurts my ribs too much. “Listen, I feel like shit. Could you go get me a Twix from the vending machine?” I’ve been here enough times to know they have those downstairs.
Grizzly taps his knees and rises. “Sweet tooth? Just imagine how badly you’ll want a beer the moment you’re out of here,” he says, padding to the door, ignorant to the turmoil inside me.
“Can’t fucking wait.”
But what I really can’t fucking wait for is Roadkill’s death. I can start gathering my thoughts once my uncle leaves, but I’m not faring well. My body is one big ache, and it’s distracting me from the task at hand.
Still, I force myself to sit up. I’m attached to an IV drip, and my leg’s in a cast, but fuck it, I’ll use the IV stand to help me walk.
My head is in such turmoil though. Roadkill’s gay? I’ve never even heard gossip about that, so I’m guessing he might be like me, steamrolling over that fact until it’s buried deep enough that it doesn’t even matter anymore. But we’ve both unearthed it, and I’ve got no idea what to do with that.
I hate myself for telling him I’d let him do me. Shame washes over me every time I think about it. I said it out loud. Not only to just some guy, but my enemy. He’s been that from the day I met him.
I was seventeen, drunk as fuck on the night I got patched in as prospect, and still inexperienced. To celebrate, our club went to get wasted at the Fleece, a bar the Vultures were known to hang out at. When I went to piss, I might have glanced at his dick a bit too long before I even noticed the patches he was sporting. Thick dark brows, tattoos, hooded eyes with long lashes, and a crooked nose proving he wasn’t afraid to get in a fight. I couldn’t deny his appeal even if I wasn’t gonna do anything about it.
He was everything I wanted and couldn’t have.
One 'The fuck you looking at?' turned into a fight where he split my lips, and I broke his finger, and there was no going back. He became my main enemy and obsession. I always look for him if I see a group of Vultures. He's a bit bigger than me, so I’ve learned ways of fighting him efficiently.
But even when my thoughts want to stray, I’ve never imagined we could—
Now is the time to get rid of the temptation he presented. For good.
Everything hurts. My hope is Grizzly will take this as an opportunity to grab a smoke while he’s away, which should offer me a bit more time, but even getting off the bed so soon after waking up is torture. My leg is itchy under the cast, my muscles must have already started wasting away from lack of use, and my head keeps spinning whenever I move that bit too fast. But I’m determined to eliminate the threat to my existence, and nothing’s going to stop me. Especially not my own body.