Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
But not A.
“Dad?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A
I’d reached for my phone and answered on instinct, forgetting for one precious moment that this was my burner, and Hope was only ever supposed to call it in an emergency.
Then I heard it.
Her voice.
Panicked.
Hitched.
Crying out my name.
I didn’t even dry the blood off my hands as I flew out of my little cabin, as I jumped in my car.
My fingers were sticky on the wheel as I sped down the road, mind going off in a million directions at once.
I thought the place was secure.
But I’d secured it for me.
Not for Hope.
Not for the woman I had fallen for.
It wasn’t safe enough, damnit.
Nothing would ever be safe enough for her.
I made the decision in a blink when I heard her panic, when I knew they’d brought tools to work on the door.
I grabbed my other phone, and I dialed her daddy’s biker club, getting connected to her father, Renny.
“A?” he answered, sounding understandably confused.
“I don’t have time to explain, but your daughter is in a safe house that is being infiltrated right now. I need your help.”
Then I rattled off the address, feeling better, knowing that there would be an entire fucking army of trained bikers descending on the safe house not long after I got there.
Sure, they were further away, but not by that much. And they were motivated to push it hard and fast. They’d make it in time to pitch in if I needed their backup. Or if the worst took place, and I was taken out, leaving Hope vulnerable.
They’d handle it.
I’d never been so fucking frantic as I was when I tore into that building. My heart was hammering. My blood was whooshing in my ears. My thoughts were flying across my mind so fast I was getting whiplash.
All about her.
I didn’t give a fuck if I didn’t make it through this.
But she had to.
But I needed to fucking focus.
So we could hopefully both make it through.
She was okay for the moment.
Behind another heavy door.
Protected by over a dozen dogs trained to attack and kill.
With her own guns to protect herself.
She was okay for the moment.
I just needed to get my mind right, get up there, and take out the bastards who were going to hurt her to get to me.
Taking a deep breath, I flew up the stairs, wondering if someone was watching the cameras, if they knew I was coming, if they were hiding out, waiting to ambush me.
Or maybe they were just focused on the last locked door where the dogs were barking, clearly protecting someone.
Hopefully they thought it was me, not Hope.
I was making my way into the apartment when I heard the bikes rumbling down the street.
Backup was there.
It was time to make some fuckers bleed.
With that decision made, I went in, firing off three shots into the first body that I saw.
Not one of my men.
Luis had been recruiting from the outside. I’d learned that much earlier that day before I’d dispatched another traitor.
I would track them down and handle them.
But they weren’t high priorities.
I needed my house clean first.
Then I could send out my remaining loyal men to do that dirty work. I’d been shedding enough blood lately.
And not the blood I really wanted on my hands.
Luis’s.
But I wanted to kill him slow.
I wanted to bleed him out.
I wanted him screaming and begging.
I wanted him to know what happened when he put his hands on what was mine.
My business, sure.
But more so, my woman.
The other men came to me in a blur, getting shot wherever I could aim until my one gun was empty, and I had to reach for another.
I had just pulled it out when I felt a bullet whizz by my face, close enough that I felt the heat of it on my cheek.
I watched as it lodged in the forehead of a man who was raising his gun on me.
“Move,” a voice barked, making me turn to see the bikers moving in. With Hope’s redheaded father leading the crew.
Renny was tall and thin with bright blue eyes and hair that used to be completely copper-red, but time had put some silvery-white in it now.
“I want Luis,” I called, pointing my gun at the man whose wide eyes made it clear he knew he was fucked.
Maybe it wasn’t a fair fight.
Five of them against what looked like not only the current generation of Henchmen bikers, but the OG members as well.
I didn’t give a fuck.
He went after Hope.
Fuck fair.
The bikers stormed in, securing the place, as I zeroed in on Luis.
Hope was safe.
With her daddy.
With her uncles and cousins.
“She’s behind this door,” I said, pointing toward it, then barking an order at the dogs that had them clamming up immediately. “I need to go handle this fuck,” I said. Then, looking at the current and past biker presidents, I said, “He hurt Hope.”