Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
“Please be careful,” she pleaded.
I draped my helmet over the handle of my bike and gripped the back of her neck, leaning down to slant my lips across hers. She gripped my cut in her fists, her lips working aggressively against mine, pouring out every bit of her fear and worry into this moment.
God, when she kissed me like this and clung to me like she was, I never wanted to leave her fucking side.
But I had to.
“I love you,” I quietly told her.
Her lips trembled. “I hate letting you ride off to something like this.” And I knew she feared it because of what had happened to me when I was with Ink. And that was a safe exchange. Now, I was riding into a fucking warzone, and she knew it. I hadn’t hidden it from her.
I brushed my lips with her trembling ones again. “When I get home, I will fuck you to the point you pass out to make up for this,” I promised her. I hated causing her fear and worry. I never wanted to be a cause of concern for her. But I was an outlaw, and she was my old lady. This was our life, and unfortunately, it would be like this until the day I died.
Her eyes heated at my promise, and my dick hardened in my jeans, making them tight across my hips. I groaned and released her, grabbing my helmet again. She was such a fucking tease, and she never realized she was doing it to me. The woman seriously held me in the palm of her fucking hand.
I looked over at her as I strapped my helmet to my head, making sure it was secure afterward. “Get your cute ass inside, and stay inside until I return, you understand me?”
She nodded. Her fingers grazed mine in one last, fleeting touch before she stepped back. “I love you,” she mouthed.
I tapped my hand over my heart, signaling that was where she always resided, before I settled my ass on the seat of my bike and followed my club and the Sons of Hell out of the lot with Alejandro’s men riding behind all of us.
This shit was ending tonight, and we were coming out the fucking victors.
The moment we rode up to the Angels of Hell’s clubhouse, it was goddamn chaos. It didn’t take a genius to know we were coming; someone probably informed them the moment we crossed into their territory. The Angels of Hell weren’t known for leaving any part of their shit unprotected.
They wanted us to come here.
Tough shit for them. This would be where each member breathed their last breath, and that last breath was going to become mine today. I was a man hell-bent on revenge for what had happened to my woman. And a man seeking revenge for his woman? That was its own kind of hell.
Three of Joey’s guys covered me, and we went in guns blazing. I headed straight for the clubhouse doors, dodging bullets as I went. I slammed the butt of my gun into one guy’s temple, and Whiler came out of nowhere, putting a bullet between his eyes.
“Go!” he barked at me. It was as if he somehow knew exactly who I wanted to go for. “I’ve got this.”
I rushed deeper into the clubhouse, on the hunt for the president and the VP. I wanted every mother fucker to pay for the permanent scarring on my woman’s body.
But these two called the shots, and I wanted their blood on my hands. They’d allowed a weak link into a position of power, and my woman had paid that price. And now, they would pay the price for the markings on her back.
I was about to be their worst fucking nightmare.
I found them trying to escape out a back door. I plunged a knife into the VP’s back before grabbing the president around the throat, yanking his body back against mine.
“Surprise, mother fucker,” I hissed.
He jerked in my hold, but like a fucking psycho maniac, I yanked my other knife from my belt and plunged it into his side. He roared in pain, and that sound was like music to my ears. I yanked the knife back out and shoved him to the floor, watching as the blood just seemed to pour from his side now that the knife wasn’t blocking it. His VP was grunting, trying to get to his feet, but it wasn’t going to work.
I’d damaged part of his fucking spinal cord. I’d aimed at that specific spot on purpose. I wanted him crippled and terrified, just as my old lady had been held immobile, fucking pinned down, while their fucking weak link had mutilated her goddamn back with their shit-ass mark.
I yanked my knife out of the VP’s back and rolled him over so he was looking up at me. The president kicked out at me, but I slammed my boot down on his leg, shattering the bone there. His scream of agony sent my blood pumping even harder. I grinned.