Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
To that, he nodded.
“I get that. But if it gets too much, you can tap any of us in. And the girls are never far away either. Except Vi. Apparently, she’s MIA.”
“What do you mean MIA?”
“I mean, she’s on a job. Chasing a skip. But she’s been kind of off the grid, I guess.”
“Are we worried?”
“We’re… watching the situation,” Fallon said. “Her parents are ready to skip town if they don’t hear from her soon.”
Vi was a big girl. And she was a badass bounty hunter. But, you know, she was our girl. We all worried.
None of us would say the quiet part out loud. That as forward-thinking and feminist as we all were, there was always the fact that Vi was a woman. Who was often chasing men twice her size, twice her strength. Even though she was well-trained, sometimes pure strength won out.
If she didn’t check in by the morning, I was pretty sure we would all be thinking the worst.
But that was a problem for another time. Right now, I had a bomber to try to find. And a traumatized, fragile girl to take care of.
“Listen, I need you on the ball with this. But don’t go into a dark place. This goes without saying, but no parties or club girls until this is all cleared up. And we’re all hands on deck here now. Guard shifts day and night. Gates closed up. If you need to order food for the girl or the club, you gotta meet delivery outside the gates. No one is going out on the town. And if you’re hitting the streets to follow a lead, I want you to have backup.”
“Got it,” I agreed, nodding.
Sure, I was often a thorn in his—and mostly Brooks’s—side. I did everything I could to avoid responsibility or bow to authority. That said, I spent a lot of years in the service. I could take an order when I knew it was for the best for everyone involved.
“Did Hailstorm take the vest?” I asked.
“No. They made sure it was safe, but they left it for you to look over, see if there is any sort of hidden message on it.”
“Where is it?”
“Basement. Perish is up in the glass room. Voss, Dezi, and Nave are on guard around the grounds. You, me, and Rowe are inside right now. We’re going to have at least a five-man guard twenty-four seven.”
“Wherever you need me.”
“Well, we need you in here for the girl. But tomorrow, maybe, if we can finagle it, you should visit her place. See if there are any signs that the place has been messed with. I know you said you don’t know her, but just in case you’re mistaken.”
“Okay. She’s probably gonna want to get some of her stuff anyway.”
She was definitely a creature of comfort. She was going to want some clothes, at least.
“Good. But I want at least two people with you. One on the floor. One in the car.”
“Got it,” I agreed. “I’m gonna go look at the vest. If you hear Bonnie, give me a call.”
He gave me a nod, and I moved down the basement steps, adrenaline starting to surge through me.
This was all hinging on me.
Bonnie’s life.
The safety of all of my club brothers. Maybe even their wives or kids.
It was a lot on my back.
I hadn’t felt that kind of pressure in a long fucking time.
I had to figure this shit out.
I wasn’t sure that if all this shit blew up—literally or figuratively—that I could come out on the other side of this with the same lightness I’d found over the years with this club.
That, well, that wasn’t a good thought.
The suicide vest was laid out on a pop-up table under one of the bright lights. Janie and the crew from Hailstorm had opened up and emptied out all of the projectiles but left everything on the table. Likely in case anything could be some kind of clue for me.
“What were you here to tell me?” I asked.
Because, surely, the plan wasn’t to blow us up, not really. It was too easy to disable. So either he thought he was better than he was, and I was dumber than I am, or he knew I would figure it out.
Which meant it genuinely was just… some kind of message.
I had to assume that, given that it was a bomb, it had to do with my time in the service. And, sure, early on in my career, I’d seen a few suicide bombs. But that was ages ago. I really didn’t think it was anything linked to that.
Later on in my career, yeah, there were also many bombs, though not this kind. Could I have killed someone in the line of duty and now their friend, family, or partner was coming for me?