Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
His voice echoes off the inside of their clubhouse, an abandoned church that the Outlaw Sons built a full compound up around. The windows are still stained glass, creating a strangely spiritual air to the place that's at odds with a bunch of men who kill for a living.
“I don’t think it was a single job,” Reaper says. “Probably a contract to do odd jobs for the same client, someone to rely on. The cars that went after us weren’t cheap.”
Ghost, one of Hellfire's officers, nods. “I agree. They won’t wanna risk having many people know about it unless it’s necessary. Every new person who takes a job for them could potentially blow their whole operation. Unless the client is a real idiot, they’ll want a known contact point each time they want work done. It's enough of a risk to put yourself out on the bounty boards, never mind doing it regularly.”
Hellfire grunts in agreement. “So you wanna find these guys, not knowing who hired them, when they were hired or who they are? Tall fucking order, guys.”
No one's gonna claim the Outlaw Sons and the Screaming Eagles are best friends, but a grudging respect has built after we helped them reclaim their clubhouse from a splinter group of old Pit Vipers who tried to take them over. Rumor has it that after they cleaned house, the group they have left is tight, professional and loyal to the core.
“You don’t think you can figure it out?” I grin at Hellfire. “We know it’s messed up with city hall, and definitely a guy named Mullerby who has gone MIA. So I mean, if you fuckers can't do it, we’ll keep looking, but—”
Ghost snorts with derision. “Fuck you, Mack.”
“Just saying.” I shrug.
Hellfire holds out an arm, keeping Ghost back when he obviously wants to come over and show me exactly what he thinks of my skepticism. He'd give me a run for my fucking money too, I know that much about him, even if he doesn't pull those knives in his belt. Word on the street is that he spent years in one of those military groups nobody likes to talk about, doing the kind of dirty work that not everyone is cut out for. But at Hellfire's gesture, he lets it be with a murderous glower. I smile back.
“Don’t be a jackass,” snarls Hellfire. “We'll get the info for ya. We just gotta decide on a price.”
Scrapper scoffs. “You're gonna make us pay? I thought this was a favor.”
Hellfire raises an eyebrow. “A favor from you, or a favor from Eagle-eye? Matters that affect both our clubs, we can work with. This is you boys straight up asking for help. That doesn’t come free.” He smirks. “How about we look into it, and if Eagle-eye agrees on the favor, we leave it at that, and if not, we’ll negotiate a price.”
“Fine. How long?”
“Just to show how fucking trusting I am, we'll start work right away. Can't guarantee anything, but I suspect we'll have something for you in a couple days. That cool?”
“Deal.”
On our way out of the Outlaw Sons clubhouse, Scrapper shrugs. “Coulda gone worse, I guess. Is it wrong that I like these guys even though they are a bunch of cold bastards?”
“Hellfire takes no shit,” says Reaper as we pass under the choir balcony over the church entrance. “And the Sons do good work. Glad they're more or less on our side.”
“Do we tell Mila?”
I shake my head. “Let's wait until we've got something. Poor girl almost fucking died naked on a bridge pillar in the middle of a river, and now her brother might or might not be involved in a prison riot. I expect the Sons will find the info we need, but if they don't we'll just have given our girl false hope.”
Both of them grunt their agreement.
Fuck. Our girl. It sounds nice. We all decided to go for this, but it's shit like this that hits me with the reality of it. But I don't fucking hate it.
There was something about her from the first time we met. Her willingness to take a chance, both when she broke into her old apartment and to come see us after. Most girls woulda just turned tail and fled, and I wouldn't fucking blame her, but she was too fucking curious. Now we’re wrapped around her fucking finger. Of course, I would’ve helped just to keep her safe, but when they attacked us along with her?
Now it’s fucking personal.
28
MILA
I know by their expressions that something serious is going on. Snark came down and whispered something to Reaper and Mack while Scrapper was teaching me how to shoot pool. The way they looked at me out of the corner of their eyes set me on edge immediately. Enough that I put my cue down and walked over to them.