Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Jordy groans. “Keep letting that shit slip into conversation and I’ll start telling you how many times in a row I can get your sister to come on my tongue.”
“You fucking asshole,” Roan growls.
“Enough, children,” I chide. “It’s time to go talk to this motherfucker.” I climb out of the truck and pull my baseball bat out from beneath the seat. “And by talk, I mean scare the shit out of him.”
Roan and Jordy back me up as I stride across the lawn to the new frat president for Alpha Gamma Rho, Zayne. As soon as he sees me, he sets his beer down and his brows lift.
“I didn’t do it,” he jokes.
“Where’s Ryan Cunningham?” I demand.
The amusement fades and his eyes flash with anger. “Probably trying to get into some bitch’s pants with a pocket full of roofies.”
“Where?”
“Last I saw him, he was inside. Kitchen.”
“Thanks, man.”
I stalk toward the front door when Zayne calls out after me. “Don’t get blood in the grout.”
“Ain’t promising shit,” I call out over my shoulder, as I lift my bat to tap the front door. “Little pig, little pig, let me in.”
Jordy reaches past me, twisting the knob. I kick the door open and search the space for this motherfucker. He’s standing in the kitchen in between two girls, grinning at them like he didn’t just try to rape my fucking girl. His eyes widen when he sees us. He grabs one of the girls, pushing her toward us as he takes off out the back door. I sprint after him, whipping him against the side of the head with my bat, using not nearly as much force as I want to. He topples over and tries to scramble to his feet.
I swing again, hitting him across his upper arm. He howls in pain but still manages to hop over the outer railing on the back porch. We Hoodlums fly over the railing, hot on his trail. Roan sprints past me, tackling him. Since he’s a fucking brute fireman, he manages to get this scrawny asshole trapped in his grip. He stands back up, keeping him pinned to his chest, forcing Ryan to face me.
I hand Jordy my bat and crack my neck. “You messed with the wrong bitch.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan snarls.
My fist swings hard, slamming into his jaw. He groans and works his jaw, cursing at me under his breath. I shake out the pain in my fist and then slam it into his gut. A crowd begins to form around us, but no one does shit. Ryan clearly doesn’t have any allies here.
“My dad will destroy you,” Ryan threatens.
“He can fucking try,” I spit out, landing another punch, this time right between the eyes.
Blood bursts from his nose and his head sways.
“You need to get something straight, Cuntingham. Charlotte’s a Hoodlum. You’re shit on the bottom of my foot. You touch one of us again and I’ll cut your dick off.”
Ryan curses, clearly not understanding my threat.
I’m serious as fuck.
“Anyone got a pocketknife?” I bark out.
Ryan glares at me, still unafraid.
“I got you, bro,” Zayne says as he appears, offering me the one from his pocket.
Panic finally starts to surface in Ryan’s eyes. “What the fuck are you going to do?”
I undo the top of his jeans and shove them down. He howls and tries to kick me, but Jordy and Zayne are quick to assist, kneeling to grab his legs. I saw through his boxers with the knife until I expose his flaccid cock.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” he bellows. “I said fucking stop!”
“What’s that? Stop? Are you telling me no? I’m sorry,” I mock. “I don’t understand the word.”
“Cal, please,” he begs like a pussy.
“You weren’t in the mood for granting Charlotte mercy last night.” I skim over the welts on his arm. Claw marks. My girl put up a fight just like she said. “I’m not feeling gracious either, motherfucker.”
He starts to piss because he’s fucking scared. Jordy curses, but doesn’t let go. I wait for this little bitch to stop pissing before I grab his wet dick. He screams in horror when I pull his dick taut and begin carving the letters C-A-L along his shaft. His howls of pain don’t stop me. Nothing stops me. I want him to remember every painful second of this moment. Once I’ve finished, I stand, getting right in his punk-ass face.
“Good luck explaining to your dad why you have another man’s name carved into your dick,” I grind out. “Hopefully it’ll serve as a good reminder that if you touch Charlotte fucking English, I will finish what I started and cut your motherfucking cock off.”
He whimpers. “I get it. I swear.”
I pat his head. “Good boy. Now clean yourself up and warn all these people they better not say shit. Your cock depends on it.”