Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Rocket’s jaw clenched. Yeah. I wasn’t the only one who hated the little bastard. “Did I say they asked for help?”
“That’s where you were goin’.” Jackhammer stood, moving a couple steps in Rocket’s direction. “Tell me I’m wrong.” He stuck his chin out, directly challenging Rocket.
“Fucker has a death wish,” I muttered, shaking my head. I covered my mouth with my hand in case I burst out laughing when Lemon castrated the bastard in a few seconds. Last thing I wanted was for Lemon to think I was on her side in anything.
“Yep.” Rattler had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We’d grown up together, gone to the Marines together, then joined covert ops together. Which is how we’d ended up here together.
“Ten bucks on Lemon,” I said softly.
“You’ve lost your Goddamn mind if you think I’m lettin’ you tell Lemon I bet against her,” Rattler grumbled.
Around us, similar conversations hummed softly. Dom scowled at us. Then pulled a folded bill from his pocket and said something to Ringo and shoved the money at him. Ringo held up his hands and backed away, shaking his head. Obviously, Ringo was smarter than he looked.
As if on cue, Lemon sauntered from where she’d been fiddling with the big dartboard on the wall behind Rocket. Before I realized what she was gonna do, Lemon marched straight up to Jackhammer. When she got close, she put one dart in her teeth sideways, like a pencil, then stabbed the other two into Jackhammer’s thighs. The third she saved for his crotch.
A collective “OHHHH!” went up around the room before everyone laughed. Everyone except Rocket. No one offered to help Jackhammer.
Rocket let the ruckus continue for a couple of minutes before quieting everyone with a look. “What I said, you dumbshit, is they gave us a heads-up.”
Jackhammer was on his knees on the floor of the clubhouse. He looked around the room until he caught Boon’s gaze. “Ain’t you gonna help me?”
Boon gave him a disgusted look. “Shoulda helped you permanently the last time you asked me that fuckin’ question. Instead, I brought you here. To my home.” Boon leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table in front of him. “Apparently you still ain’t grasped the concept of actions and consequences.”
Blood was beginning to pool beneath and around Jackhammer. Usually this was the point where Rocket scolded Lemon, and Lemon pouted and pretended to be all innocent and shit before she launched that last dart straight into Jackhammer’s eye. Instead, the little hellion just stood there, twirling the point of the dart against her index finger lazily.
“You gonna get up and join the meetin’ or sit there and bleed?” Rocket gave Jackhammer a look that had been known to leave prospects quaking in their boots.
With his defenses down -- because of a dart to the dick -- Jackhammer had no hope of holding his ground. He grunted and tried to rise to his feet but the darts in his thighs must have protested, because the man gave a sharp yelp.
“Jesus Christ,” Boon muttered, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. “Will someone just shoot him and put him outta his misery?”
“Kinda feels a little like shootin’ a helpless, if stupid, teenager.” Ringo took out his sidearm and chambered a round. “But I can sure the fuck do it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Finally! Lemon pushed her way past Rocket and knelt in front of Jackhammer. Before he knew what Lemon was doing, she reached out and yanked both darts from Jackhammer’s legs. Which caused another yelp. That yelp turned into a full-on girl scream when she yanked the dart from his crotch. “There. All better! Go see Bullet for a tetanus shot later.”
“You fuckin’ bitch!” Jackhammer screamed. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you for this! Fuckin’ whore!”
I stood so fast, my chair tumbled back. I wasn’t the only one. None of us were as fast as Rocket, though. He pulled his gun and shot Jackhammer in the crotch. Not once. Three. Fucking. Times.
“You want somethin’ to scream about, you pissant little motherfucker?” Rocket shot him in the crotch a fourth time. “Try that.” Again, Rocket shot. “How about that, too?” Blood was now everywhere. Jackhammer was covered in it and there was no doubt Rocket had hit one or both femoral arteries. Probably every blood vessel in Jackhammer’s pelvis. In any event, Jackhammer was no longer screaming. It wasn’t like Rocket to lose his cool, and definitely not like him to kill indiscriminately. Which told me Jackhammer had been way more trouble than Rocket was willing to take.
‘Course, it coulda just been the fact the fool had threatened to kill Lemon, no matter how much pain the fucker was in at her doing. The easiest way to unleash the outlaw in Rocket was to threaten his woman. Lemon had had a couple close calls since she met Rocket and the president hadn’t gotten over any of it yet. None of us had.