Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Thoughts and emotions poured through my head.
Did I have an ally? Would he help me if I tried to escape with the kid? Could I pick the kid up? I was five feet one, and that kid was at least five feet. Maybe I could carry him.
Kevin hurried over to the window and peered outside, disgusted.
“Fucking hell,” he growled. “Just when I thought we were going to be left alone for a few hours.” He turned and surveyed the room. “Y’all go. Take off your colors so they don’t arrest you. Come back in an hour if everything’s clear.”
The men wearing their blue bandanas like flags around their heads stood, and started to head toward the door. Each one of them took the bandana off and shoved them in the back of their low riding jeans.
They were all intimidating as hell, too.
Most of them wore white t-shirts with their low hanging jeans, but some of them wore wife-beaters—which was apt for the situation.
They all had tattoos, some of them with them on their faces and around their eyes.
They weren’t bulky—not like Aaron or some of the other Rejects, as Aaron liked to call them—but the guns that I could see at the small of their backs were enough to make up for any shortcomings.
“Rafe,” Kevin barked. “Put those two in the room. Make sure you gag ‘em so we don’t get any pigs in this apartment wondering what the hell that sound is.”
Rafe—otherwise known as the guy at my back—nodded behind me and let go of me.
The minute he did I sagged, legs tensing in preparation.
One look at Rafe’s dark black eyes had me freezing in place.
I wouldn’t run. Not yet. His eyes were lit with an inner fire that practically forced me to stay exactly where I was. I didn’t get a bad vibe off of him, though.
Then, without another word, he walked out the door and I heard the lock click behind him.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I looked down at the boy at my side, and immediately felt bile rise to the surface.
With trembling hands, I did what I could, and touched my cool hands to the kid’s beaten face.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered.
I just hope what I’d told him was the truth.
Then, with nothing else to do but sleep, I did.
***
I opened my eyes to find Big Papa standing in front of Rafe.
Big Papa held his hand out to Rafe.
“Thanks for getting in there. Did you have any trouble infiltrating?” Big Papa asked.
Rafe shook his head.
“No. It was trivial at best. They’re amateurs compared to what I’ve tried to get into before,” Rafe promised.
I found myself curious as to what he’d gotten into before that was worse than what he had been in. The Hollows were a freakin’ gang for crying out loud.
“You were planted?” Truth asked in confusion. “When?”
“Aaron,” Big Papa said simply. “They met while he was back in his old hometown. Kept his number in case he needed use of his services again.”
I hugged the towel that was concealing my near nakedness, thankful that I no longer had to be in a bra and panties in front of this crowd, around me tighter at hearing Aaron’s name.
Was he all right?
The movement of my head caught Truth’s attention.
“He’s all right,” Truth promised. “He’s got two broken collarbones, though, as well as a few gashes that they had to repair on his face and his knee.”
My eyes closed, but I continued to say nothing.
If I opened my mouth right then, I’d fall apart. And I didn’t want to do that in front of the guys.
Didn’t want to put any more on their plates than was already there.
“I’ll take her in. Get her checked out. Tommy Tom’s on shift, right?” Truth asked as he stood, causing the ambulance I was sitting in to shift.
“Yes,” Sean said, making me turn my head. “He’s there. As is the rest of the club.”
My eyes took in Sean.
He was dressed in navy blue pants with this bright white stripe down the middle of the legs, and a navy blue shirt that distinguished him as a paramedic for Mooresville EMS.
He looked haggard, though, as if he’d had a long night.
“Did you take him in?” I whispered.
Sean’s eyes came to me.
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” I continued to whisper.
Sean shrugged. “He will be.”
I noticed he didn’t answer, but chose not to force him to elaborate.
Instead, I just lay back on the stretcher, closed my eyes, and forced myself to appear asleep as Sean and Truth took me to the hospital.
***
Hours later I found myself staring down at Aaron’s prone body.
He looked bad.
Beat up and defeated.
I knew he wouldn’t be. I knew he’d wake up all growling and pissed off, but with his defenses down in his sleep, he appeared to be broken.