Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Sal smirked, but Marco stayed stoic.
“I have your money.” Mayhem pushed the bag closer to the men. “We’re all good? Nate is set with you two?” He just wanted this over with. Mayhem wasn’t about to sit here and have pleasantries with the motherfuckers who threatened Butters.
There was silence for a moment, and then Sal lifted his chin to a guard behind Mayhem. He looked over his shoulder and saw the prick that had put his hands on him walk toward the back and disappear behind a door.
“Would you care for something to drink?”
Mayhem faced Sal again. “No.”
Marco shifted in his seat, and for just a second, Mayhem saw the other man wince.
“You can count it, but it’s all there.”
Sal smiled wider. “I’m sure it is. You seem like the type of man who knows how to keep his end of the bargain.”
“I just want this shit done,” Mayhem didn’t mince his words. These assholes were trying to act bigger than they were, but all Mayhem wanted was for this fucked up shit to be over with.
Sal leaned back, his grin still in place. “I like you. It’s Mayhem, right?”
Mayhem nodded once.
“I like you. I can see you and I have a lot of things in common.”
Mayhem doubted that, but he kept his mouth shut.
“But even though I like you, I can’t let shit slide, especially when it concerns my family.”
Mayhem heard commotion behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Nate all but being dragged through the restaurant. He was tossed to the ground where he groaned and tried to rise.
But the motherfucking guard placed a boot right in the center of Nate’s back, keeping him on the ground. Mayhem didn’t much care about Nate since he’d gotten Butters involved in this shit, but he also knew his woman—and yeah, she was his fucking woman—would be devastated by this if she lost her brother.
He didn’t want Butters going through that.
“What the fuck is this?” Mayhem demanded, not caring or thinking straight right now even though men who had guns at the ready surrounded him. He’d counted the two men at the door, Sal and Marco, and probably another one or two hiding somewhere in this damn place.
He could take them or take out as many as he could before they got a hit in on him. But he had to play this smart.
Obviously, the rules had changed.
“This piece of shit had the balls to come to my home and stab me.”
Mayhem looked at Marco, the little asshole finally speaking. He then looked back at Nate. “You stupid motherfucker.” He should leave Nate here to die, but fuck, he couldn’t do that to Butters. Nate might be the biggest fucking idiot to walk the earth, but Mayhem knew family bonds, even if those family bonds were fucked in the head.
“And what the hell do you think I want with him?” Of course, Mayhem played it off, not about to let them know that he didn’t want Nate dying solely because of Butters.
“You want him alive because we know you’ve been spending a lot of personal time with his sister.”
Mayhem tensed. “What?” His heart beat faster. They may not know the deal he’d made with Butters, but they could guess. Besides, they knew he was with her, maybe even thought he held her close—which he did, but they didn’t know that for sure—and wanted to use this as leverage.
Marco smirked. “You think we don’t follow up on shit that concerns all aspects of our family?”
Mayhem curled his hands into fists on his thighs.
“You’ll bring us another twenty grand by tomorrow if you want this piece of shit to stay alive.” Marco smiled wider, but Mayhem saw him reach for his side, his expression showing an instant of pain. “And if you don’t get us the money, we’ll kill this worthless bastard and go after Renee next.”
Mayhem’s throat tightened, his vision tunneled, the world faded, and all he could think about was protecting Butters. These assholes thought they could take from him the only good thing in his life, the only woman he’d ever felt anything for?
Fuck. No.
Not even thinking straight, Mayhem slowly stood and watched the little prick in front of him flash a straight, white-toothed smile. Mayhem looked over at Sal. The older man held no expression and, instead, picked up his now refilled wine glass and took a drink from it.
Mayhem nodded slowly, reached out for the bag before they could grab it, and unzipped it. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but in reality, he knew it was pretty damn fast.
He’d stored a handgun in the bag, and because Sal’s men were complete idiots, they hadn’t checked that. If they had, he would have dealt with it, probably in the form of violence, but Mayhem wasn’t about to walk into this situation unprepared.