Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“You can’t just reverse it?” I ask, knowing damn well the man would do anything to avoid having to come here and give Ace bad news.
“Why the fuck am I just hearing about this now?” Ace growls, and his face grows red with anger. He’s about to get in Doherty’s face when Dix grabs his shoulder.
“Tried and tried again to reverse it. Had the boys lined up and ready to scoop ’em back up, but the IT department says a rolling blackout shut down the power and guesses it was just a glitch.” He shakes his head and turns to Ace. “Spent all damn day yesterday trying to fix it because the generators powered up, but it was too late,” he explains.
“A real fucking fortuitous glitch,” Coop growls, so angry he’s practically vibrating.
Ace turns to the group. “Wilder, look into what the fuck happened, and let me know as soon as you do.” He turns back to Doherty. “Thanks for coming here to tell us, Doherty. I appreciate it.”
He nods. “Anything you need, let me know.” His gaze slides to Dix with a grin. “Glad to see you on the outside. Look a hell of a lot more relaxed in your civvies.”
“Glad to be out.”
Doherty walks away and gets into his patrol car, looking more tired and older than I’ve ever seen him in all the years he’s been in our pocket. With a wave, he’s gone.
"We need to tighten up security," Ace says. "The Iron Kings are out, and they're not going to be happy. We need to be prepared for anything."
"I'll talk to the men," Dix says. "Make sure they're on their guard."
Ace nods. "Thanks, Dix. I appreciate it."
"No problem," Dix says. "Just glad to be out of jail and back with the club."
Ace grins. "Yeah, we missed you too. All right, brothers, back to church.”
Chapter Five
Gia
I slowly wake up to the sound of music playing down the block, telling me it’s time to wake up. I stretch my muscles, stiff from sleeping curled into a comfortable ball. When I push up to a sitting position, the sheet falls to my lap, and I’m ready for another stretch when I spot two men standing in my room.
The first thing I notice is they’re both hot, like super fucking hot. There’s a hot biker dude at the foot of my bed and a really hot one to my right. The second thing? The leather vests and angry expressions tell me this isn’t one of my sex dreams or a fantasy come to life.
I suck in a breath, ready to scream down the roof until help comes to my rescue.
The biker reaches out and covers my mouth with a large, beefy hand. “Don’t. Scream.”
I nod really fucking fast, eyes wide with fear as I prepare to die.
“Don’t scream,” he says again and takes a step back, letting his hand drop away. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”
“It would’ve been kinder for you to just kill me in my sleep. Then again, why should I expect you assholes to be kind? Probably don’t even know how to spell it.”
Hot guy number one smirks and shakes his head. “We’re not here to kill you. At least, I don’t think we are. Right?” He poses the question to the sex stick standing beside me.
“No. We need information.”
I realize I’m in no position to argue, but I don’t believe these guys for one hot minute. But right now, I figure I have nothing to lose. I groan and roll my eyes.
“It’s always about what you guys need. What about what I need? Like some fucking gratitude, or better yet, gratitude in the form of cash would be nice instead of threats.”
Hottie number one smirks again. “Listen, lady,” he begins with his hands on his hips.
“Gia, not lady. And I’m listening.” I fold my arms across my chest, suddenly aware that I’m wearing a camisole, panties and nothing else.
“Who hired you to hack the cop shop?”
Oh. Shit. I shake my head. “Is this some sort of test?” These guys and their fucking games. I swear, they should have just killed me as I slept, dreaming about Jason Momoa licking me like a fucking lollipop.
“It’s not a test,” the one beside me argues. He’s hot as fuck even with an angry glare on his face. Thick dark hair that looks curly underneath that sloppy ponytail tied in back and dreamy brown eyes the color of whiskey.
“Just answer the question, please. Who hired you to hack the police?”
“Hire?” I let out a bitter laugh and stare at both men carefully. They don’t look mean or angry, but I don’t trust them. What I can see is they aren’t Iron Kings, but Reckless Souls.
“Some guy showed up at my house and put a knife to my throat, threatening me and my mom if I didn’t hack in and release their biker buddies.”