Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I sighed. “I got it,” I grumbled. “I fucking got it.”
Before Joey could respond, gun shots rang out around us. Tristan cursed as he dropped down to the ground beside me, he and Joey pulling guns out of their cuts at the same time. Tristan wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me close to him. “Can you use a gun?” he asked me.
I nodded at him. He thrust a pistol into my hand and pressed his lips to my forehead—the part that wasn’t bleeding. Despite the dangerous situation we were in, my heart fluttered in my chest. “If someone that’s not one of my men or Joey’s men comes near you, fucking shoot them,” he harshly ordered.
I watched as Tristan inched around the car, crouching at the hood. He started firing back, Joey right beside him. I kept my eyes trained on the area surrounding me. Soon, the gun shots died down, and I heard cars tear off of the lot, giving up for now. Tristan stood and came over to me. “You alright?”
I nodded, pushing myself up off of the ground. “Vin?” I guessed.
Tristan nodded in answer to my question. Joey strode over to me. “You need to get in that clubhouse,” he instructed, his eyes hard, still in protection mode. I clenched my jaw. “I’ll get one of the men to get your car over to the garage to get fixed.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You know no one works on my car besides me, Joey.”
He stepped closer, our toes touching as he towered over me, his eyes narrowing. I tilted my chin up at him defiantly. “Get the fuck over it,” he snarled at me. I bristled. Joey was worried about me, and he was itching for a fight. I knew that. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to rise to the challenge. “Twice in the past ten fucking minutes, your life has been in jeopardy. Get your fucking ass in that goddamn clubhouse!” he barked down at me, pointing his finger in the direction of the clubhouse.
I spat in his face. He slowly closed his eyes and stepped back from me, using his shirt to wipe my spit off of his face. “You better watch who the fuck you’re talking to. In case you’ve fucking forgotten, I still hold a goddamn gun in my hand.”
He opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow at me, anger flaring in his beautiful eyes. “You threatening me, pretty girl?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous, the true, terrifying criminal within him coming to the surface.
I stepped up to him, glaring up into his handsome face. I wasn’t afraid of Joey. He knew that. Just as I knew he’d never truly hurt me. “I’m making a promise,” I seethed. “If you ever talk to me again like you just did, I will fucking shoot you, understand? I’m not one of your goddamn men.”
He took a step back from me. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Tristan gripped my arm and pulled me back from Joey when I reached up to jab my finger into his chest, ready to spew some more shit at him. “Come on,” Tristan told me, trying to deescalate the situation. “You both need to calm down.”
I ripped my arm from his grasp, almost stumbling when my skull pulsed from me moving too fast. “Don’t tell me what the fuck I need to do.”
He gripped my upper arms and snatched me against his hard, muscular frame, glaring down at me. I swallowed hard. I still wasn’t used to this side of Tristan. “I’m not Joey, Addy. Watch yourself.”
I let a careless smirk twist my lips. “You going to hit me, Tristan?” I asked, almost taunting him.
He leaned his head down, so his lips brushed against my ear. I shivered, my breath hitching in my throat as my eyes closed. Oh, God, what the fuck was he doing to me? “I’m not that kind of man, Addy, but I will throw you over my shoulder, drag you into your room, and fuck you stupid,” he breathed into my ear.
My eyes snapped open as white-hot desire rippled straight down to my core. He leaned back up and reached up with one of his hands to brush the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat. “Got it?”
Rendered speechless, I wordlessly nodded my head.
I silently watched as Tristan leaned his muscular body over the pool table with his cue stick in his hand, getting ready to break the triangle of balls on the table. I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on his ass for a moment because for a man, he really was gifted with a great, toned ass. It was the kind you wanted to sink your nails into or hell, even your teeth.