Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
"That got you three months?" I asked, brows drawing together.
"My dislike of pimps might have led to one of them eating through a straw."
"Nice," Reeve said, almost too low to be heard.
"And you're still breathing?" I pressed.
"Little Ricky was a paranoid fuck. Figured some rogue asshole with an ax to grind must have belonged to some bigger organization bent on bringing his pathetic army of rapists and baby fuckers down."
"You seem to know a lot about his organization," I observed.
"I know a lot about a lot of organizations."
"Why's that?"
"Alright," Reign said as he walked back in, showered. "Reeve," he said, making the man in question straighten in his seat slightly. "You're reading my kid Hatchet?"
Reeve got a bit more guarded at that, but lifted his chin slightly. "I am."
"Thanks, man. Summer said he was struggling since I left. I appreciate you taking some time out for him. Secondly," he said, looking over toward me. "Where the fuck is Mina?"
"Oh, man," Cyrus said, jumping up and wavering on his feet for a second before Edison's cuffed hands grabbed his forearm to steady him. "Thanks, bud. You weren't here for this, but let's just say the Mina topic ain't a good one and we might be better off in the kitchen for a bit."
With that, Cyrus, Edison, and Reeve all shuffled off as Reign raised a brow at me. "What'd you do, Renny?"
"I got the girl," I hedged, my headache seeming to intensify at just the mention of her.
"Then you lost her. Fucking great. Did you at least compare notes before you scared her off or were you too busy doing other shit?"
"We're on the same page about Laz and Cyrus and are both clueless about Reeve."
"When did she leave?"
"Just late this morning."
"Lo know you hurt her girl?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"She's looking for pickling spices," I supplied. At his drawn-together brows, I laughed humorlessly. "To pickle my cock."
To that, he threw his head back and laughed. "Shoulda known when you were getting involved with Hailstorm."
"So why do we have Little Ricky's prisoner here... still in cuffs?"
Reign shrugged at first. "We got down to the basement, saw him, but didn't have time to ask him any goddamn thing so we just took him and ran. With the amount of shit that went down in that building, the cops were definitely on their way. We didn't want to risk it. On top of that, he saw us and could finger us. And we didn't know who he was so we couldn't just fucking kill him."
"Not worried he's going to flip shit?"
"You've seen the fuck," Reign said, chuckling. "I swear to fuck if I didn't know better, I'd think he was perpetually high. How he lost his shit and almost killed one of Little Ricky's guys is beyond me. I don't think I've met anyone that laid back."
"He claims to know a lot about a lot of organizations. When I said the name of our club, he already knew he was in Jersey. Even though his home space is apparently Philly."
"Good to know."
"What's the plan with him now? We got women and kids here," I reminded him. "And I don't think it'd be fair to lock him up with the rest of the puppies in case he's got rabies."
"Puppies?" he asked, smirking again.
"I dunno, man. I said it once and it stuck," I admitted, reaching up to rub at the bridge of my nose.
"So you thought that jumping into a bottle was maybe better than driving up to Hailstorm, huh?"
"I fucked up bad, man," I admitted. "Swear to fuck she might have put in an order to have me shot on sight."
"Well, I suggest your start racking that brain of yours to try to figure out how to get her to forgive you, because I'm thinking I want her opinion on Edison before we make any decisions on what to do with him. For now, I don't fucking know, we can lock him up in that glass room or some shit. There's no escaping from there."
"Hey, ah, Mr. Presidentè or whatever," Cyrus called from the doorway, getting our attention. "The new guy and Laz are, well, let's say they're having culinary differences."
"Jesus Christ," Reign said, shaking his head, running a hand across the back of his neck. "What the fuck is happening to my club?" he asked, walking toward the kitchen with me in toe just in time to see Edison shove his cuffed hands into Laz's shoulder.
"Keep your hands off me, frate," Laz shot back, shoving his own hand into Edison's shoulder.
"Frate?" Cyrus asked and I shook my head. I had no fucking idea.
Really, even cuffed, there was only one way that conversation was going to go. And we stood there and watched as the men hit the ground and fought for dominance.
"That's more like old times," Reign said, nodding.