Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I cranked the music high as I drove back to the club, a little black metal to lead us home. Mae spent the entire time staring at the picture, a breathless fucking smile on her face and her eyes shining with tears. A fucking dream.
A girl. I wanted that kid in her stomach to be a girl.
An hour later we pulled up to the compound, Smiler waving us through from the new watchtower. Since the clusterfuck that was the cult freaks last attack, we’d made this place into a motherfucking fort.
We got out of the truck and made our way inside. The minute we entered the clubhouse, I heard a loud squeal, and Beauty came gunning for Mae. The bitch practically tackled the brothers in her way. “Did you get it? Let me see! Was everything okay?”
Mae laughed and released my hand as Beauty took the picture from her and started fucking squealing again. Bitch was giving me a fucking migraine. “Mae!” Beauty whispered, “So goddamn perfect, sweetie.”
I looked across the room and caught Viking watching us from the pool table, AK beside him, taking his shot. “So?” Viking shouted over Beauty’s high-pitched earfuck, drawing everyone’s attention. “You manage to shoot for two or just an everyday pussy with one?” The redheaded brother waggled his eyebrows. I flicked him the middle finger.
He shook his head. “Just one then.” He shrugged. “Not everyone can have super swimmers like me.”
“How the fuck would you know? You got kids you ain’t told us about?” AK asked, leaning on his pool cue.
“Nah, not that I fuckin’ know of.” He grabbed his dick. “Just know I have great power within these ginger nuts. I’ll be boomin’ out triplets at a time. Gonna need me a fuckin’ harem to keep them satisfied.”
“Fuck, just what the world needs. More fuckin’ Vikings,” Cowboy drawled from the bar. Hush, his fellow Cajun and damn shadow, smirked in response.
I looked to my right and saw Maddie getting off Flame’s lap. As always, they were sitting at the back of the room on their own. Still had no fucking clue about how the fuck they worked, what the hell their life looked like back in his cabin, but Mae’s sister had kept him from going nuclear, so I didn’t fucking care. His scarred arm was wrapped around her waist like a vise, but he reluctantly let her go, tapping his finger on the chair in sets of eleven the minute she was gone. His black eyes tracked her as she walked to Mae and hugged her sister.
Fucking. Crazy.
A hand slapped on my shoulder. I turned to see it belonged to Ky. Lifting my hands, I signed, “Was wondering where the fuck you were. You’ve been a fuckin’ ghost this past week.”
“Been around,” he said vaguely. He looked down at the picture Mae was holding.
Lilah arrived, taking the picture from Mae’s hand. Tears immediately came to her blue eyes. “Mae,” Lilah said quietly and laid her head on my woman’s shoulder. Mae kissed her short blond hair.
Ky was staring at his wife, a fucking devastated look on his face. I frowned. Ky must have felt me watching; he turned and forced a smile onto his face.
I tipped my chin, silently asking him what was wrong. He shook his head and stepped back, a shit-eating grin hiding whatever the fuck it was. It was forced. I knew him as well as I knew myself. Something was wrong.
“We getting this church started or what? Some of us have fuckin’ places to go to!” Ky shouted to the men in the room.
My brothers began filing into church, casting strange looks at their VP. Ky ignored every one of them. Instead he looked back to his wife, who was listening to Mae talking about the sonogram. There was a shit-ton of hurt in my brother’s eyes. But, why, I had had no fucking idea.
I took my seat at the head of the table, determined to find out what the fuck was going on after church. Vike called for Lil’ Ash, who instantly appeared at the doorway. Lil’ Ash, Flame’s younger brother, our newest prospect, aged sixteen. The kid already looked like a miniature Flame; now he had some ink—a skull on his neck, the beginnings of two sleeves and a chest piece—a bottom lip piercing and black gauges in his ears, he looked even more so.
“We need liquor,” Viking said. Lil’ Ash nodded his head. When the kid went to get the sauce, Flame glared at Vike. “What the fuck you lookin’ at?” Vike asked.
Flame’s lips slowly ran over his teeth. “You don’t fuckin’ order him about. It makes me wanna slice my fuckin’ blade through your skull when you do. He’s not a fuckin’ slave.”
“He’s a prospect. Gotta earn the patch, brother. As for wanting to kill me, that’s no different to every other fuckin’ day,” Vike said, sitting back as if Flame wasn’t planning his death with his crazed fucking eyes.