Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
My own words to him about his lies echoed in my head. But maybe I was the one who couldn't tell truth from lies. Maybe I'd imagined the gentle way he'd touched me, the look in his eyes when he thought I was sleeping, the way he'd held me like I was something precious.
The wind picked up, cutting through my clothing and forcing a shiver from my body. I couldn't stay here all night, feeling sorry for myself. Ghost would worry. Honey would freak out. And I had information that the club needed to know, regardless of how I'd acquired it.
I wiped my face with my hands. Standing up felt like climbing a mountain, my muscles protesting as I forced myself upright. The ground tilted beneath me for a moment before steadying.
My bike lay on its side, looking somehow smaller and more vulnerable than it had standing upright. Like me. The bitter thought had the sickening ring of truth. I bent down and gripped the handlebars, hauling it back onto its wheels with a grunt of effort. I started the engine and it rumbled to life beneath me like an angry beast.
I took one last look at the city spread out below, the lights now blurry through my tear-swollen eyes. Somewhere down there, Rocky was in his apartment, maybe planning his next move, maybe reporting to his Copperhead brothers about the stupid girl he'd managed to fool. Did he laugh about me to them? I snorted. Of course he did.
Not anymore. I wasn't that girl now. I was Wren of Bound in Blood, Ghost's daughter, and no fucking Copperhead would get the better of me again.
I turned my bike toward the road leading down the mountain, toward the compound, toward home. My chest still ached, my eyes still burned, but my jaw was set, teeth clenched against the pain. I'd cry tonight, hate myself tonight, but tomorrow—tomorrow I'd make damn sure Rocky regretted ever crossing my path.
It wasn’t long before the compound loomed ahead, its familiar outline both welcoming and threatening. I couldn't face Ghost, not yet. Not with tear tracks still fresh on my cheeks and Rocky's betrayal still burning in my chest. I guided my bike past the main building, circling around to the converted garage apartments where Honey and Jack now lived. The red neon glow from the sign out front painted everything in a bloody wash as I killed the engine and stared up at their window. Light still glowed despite the late hour. Someone was awake.
I climbed the metal stairs, each step clanging beneath my boots. My hand hesitated at the door. Honey would take one look at me and know something was wrong. Jack would demand answers, and once I started talking, there'd be no taking it back. No pretending I hadn't fucked up royally.
But Honey was my best friend. I had no one else to turn to.
I knocked softly, then harder when no one answered. Footsteps approached from the other side, light and quick. Honey's.
The door swung open, spilling warm light into the hallway. Honey stood there in sleep shorts and a tank top, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes widened as they locked on my face.
"Jesus, Wren," she whispered, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside. "What happened?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. My throat closed up, the lump there threatening to choke me. The apartment was small but neat, decorated in Honey's simple style. Jack sat on the couch, shirtless and massive, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. He looked up as we entered, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.
"The fuck?" he growled, setting down his beer and standing up. At his full height, Bloody Jack Mason filled the room, his presence making the space seem even smaller.
Honey kept her arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the couch. "Sit down, sweetie. What happened? Are you hurt?"
The genuine concern in her voice broke something inside me. The dam I'd built on the ride over crumbled, and suddenly I was sobbing again, ugly heaving sobs that shook my entire body. I collapsed against Honey, my face pressed against her shoulder.
Jack moved closer, his bulk casting a shadow over us. "Who do I need to kill?" His voice was deadly calm, the kind of calm that preceded violence.
Honey shot him a warning look over my head, her arms tightening around me. "Give her a minute, Jack."
I pulled back, wiping furiously at my eyes. "It's Rocky," I managed to get out between hiccupping breaths. "He's a f-fucking C-Copperhead."
Jack's face darkened, his jaw clenching so tight I could see the muscle jumping in his temple. "The guy from the Valentine's Ball? The one you've been seeing?"
I nodded miserably. "I’m so sorry. I heard him on the phone tonight. Talking to someone called about a meeting at 'The Pit' tomorrow. About merchandise coming in early." I spat the word like it tasted bad. "We all know what that means." Honey made a small, pained sound. Her hand found mine, squeezing tight. "He played me from the start," I continued, my voice still shook but steadied as the initial shock of confession wore off. "He approached me because of who I am. Because of Ghost."