Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Trent let his attention drift over Logan’s homework before he cut a glance at Logan. “You’re fuckin’ smart, man. Smarter than any of us. Damned wizard with the numbers.”
There was no missing the foreboding wound in it.
“That’s no secret. We all know I’m the smartest, best looking of the bunch,” Logan tossed out with a smirk, doing his best to ignore Trent’s agitation.
Because seriously, what the hell was this about?
Trent checked on him, yeah. Made sure he was going to class. But Trent didn’t need to worry about any of that shit. Logan was laser focused. Was set on coming out on top. He’d be rich, but he was going to do that shit right.
Trent rubbed his fingertips over his lips. It was a tell.
His oldest brother was disturbed.
“Yeah, and our father has noticed.” It came out a low warning.
A frown took to Logan’s face, and he almost shrugged if it weren’t for the ripples of unease billowing off of Trent. “So?”
Trent grunted in frustration. “So, if he sees something that he can use for his benefit, that’s what the bastard’s gonna do.”
Trent might have worn the vice pres patch for their MC, Iron Owls, but their father was the president. Which meant whatever their father said was gospel, no matter if Trent liked it or not.
Over the years, the animosity between the two had grown, but there was little Trent could do but his duty to the club. It was where his life was pledged.
Live to Ride, Ride to Die.
Once you took that oath, that was it.
You were an Owl until the day you were put in the ground.
Logan figured it was the main reason Trent had purchased this house in a family neighborhood clear across the city from the club’s quarters. He was hiding both him and Nathan away, hoping their father didn’t notice any talents that could be extorted.
Hell, he probably hoped their father had forgotten that they even existed.
Logan’s knee began to bounce. “What does that mean for me?”
Trent’s head barely shook as he rested farther on the chair and angled closer. “It means he found a way to use you. He promised you to a man named Andres Costa.”
Logan blinked and his chest tightened.
He knew the name.
Trent’s throat bobbed when he swallowed, irritation burning through his blood. “They want you working his books. Looking for ways to get their money into legitimate investments. Growing it.”
It was pointed when Trent said it.
An undercurrent of a message.
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Logan’s neck and fear took hold.
Trent was on his feet and kneeling in front of him in a flash. He gripped Logan’s knee, angling his head up and forcing Logan to meet his eye. “I fought him on it, Logan. I did. Told him I didn’t want you mixed up in this mess. You’re too good for it. Too fuckin’ good. He insisted you’re a Lawson. That you are destined to patch in.”
Trent drew in a shattered sigh. “Won’t let that happen, Logan. I won’t. I pushed back until we came to a concession that I still hate, but at least it spares you the cut. You’ll be working at Costa’s compound. Far away from the club. Where it can’t touch you. You’ll be safe there. It’s where his family lives, and he does not allow violence to infiltrate those walls.”
Logan couldn’t stop the tremors that wracked his limbs.
Trent stood and brought him to his feet, holding him by the outside of both shoulders. “You just have to keep your head down low, Logan. Stay under the radar. Don’t interact with anyone except to listen for instruction. You can’t let this world get under your skin, man. You can’t.”
Trent’s voice cracked on the last, and he gave Logan a soft shake. “Promise me, Logan, promise me you’ll do your job, and it ends at that.”
Logan forced himself to nod around the shock.
Trent breathed out in what sounded like pained relief as he pulled Logan to his chest and hugged him fiercely. “I won’t let him destroy you, too. I promise, Logan. I promise.”
Logan was nothing but nerves as Trent pulled his truck to the side entrance of a mansion in one of the wealthiest communities in the Greater Los Angeles Area. It was basically a compound, like Trent had called it, the walls almost as high as the security measures surrounding it.
From the front, it looked no different than any of the other estates that sat on multiple acres. Tall trees soared over the height of the walls, the gate ornate, the house within not visible from the street.
The truck idled at the curb as Trent clutched the steering wheel. His brother was clearly fighting a brand-new war.
“I’ll be fine,” Logan promised. “Don’t worry.”
Logan figured he’d make the best of it. Numbers were in his blood. He’d take every lesson he learned here and apply it to what he did in the future.