Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Settling in or living his life?” Saint asked, glancing back at me. “I think we both know there’s a big difference.”
“He was in that storage unit a long time. It’s going to take a while to readjust. Took me over a year to get off the prison schedule. Shit was so ingrained in me.”
“Still wake up thinking I hear the fucking buzzer every morning.”
“And that fucking droning voice on the intercom,” I agreed. “He’s eating his meals with us. He’s taking women to bed. He hasn’t really hit the town yet, but he hasn’t been here that long. Baby steps.”
“Yeah,” Saint agreed. “I’m gonna go take that redhead off his hands,” he said before walking off.
Turning, I made my way toward the back of the building, pausing to grab a gun, then moving outside to get some air and do a quick scan of the grounds.
I was maybe only five feet outside the back door when I heard it.
Running water.
My spine steeled.
My fingers tightened on the gun, pointer sliding toward the trigger.
I’d locked the chickens up not long before, dumping and refilling their coop water before I did so. I had a vivid memory of twisting off the tap.
The water hadn’t been on.
But it was now.
I inched around the building, careful of where my feet were landing, deep breathing to keep the adrenaline from overtaking me.
It was hard to see thanks to a spotlight that must have blown out. But in the darkness, I could just barely make out a crouched figure down on the ground near the garden hose.
“Don’t move,” I said as I snuck up on him, pressing the barrel of the gun to the back of the guy’s head.
“Fuck,” he sighed, head falling forward, shoulders slumping. “It’s just water, man.”
As he said it, I glanced over his shoulder, spotting the half a dozen water bottles he’d already filled up with hose water.
“Alright. And a few eggs. Fine. A dozen or so eggs.”
Well, I guess all the researching I’d been doing about why the hens hadn’t been laying had been a waste of time.
I’d been so worried about protecting the girls from wolves. I had no idea a human would be the one raiding their coops at night.
“I wouldn’t try it,” I advised, seeing the way his body tensed, likely ready to make a run for it. Or, more likely, try to fight it out. “Rafe.”
“Dammit,” Rafe sighed, shutting off the water. He slowly lifted his arms up to the sides, then got to his feet. “It was worth a try, though, wasn’t it?” he asked, shooting me a smirk over his shoulder.
“It ain’t over,” I said, grabbing the back of his shirt and leading him back around the building, then inside. “Get in,” I demanded when we got to a small door inside.
“Fine. Fine.”
He reached for the door handle, then pulled it open and stepped into the small storage closet that was making my throat feel tight with how small it was.
Rafe turned to me, gray eyes guarded.
He was just like he’d looked on the news: tall, on the thin side—though a week on the run had seemed to shave even more pounds off of him—with a sharp jaw, dark hair, and an old, nasty scar through his upper lip.
“Wait here.”
“Not like I got a choice,” he said as I closed and locked the door.
I was already reaching for my phone as I tucked my gun away.
“What is it?” Slash asked, sounding half asleep. “Need you at the clubhouse. Got a situation. I’m ending the party now.”
“On my way,” he said, already sounding awake.
Sucking in a deep breath, I walked over to the stereo system, cutting the music abruptly, making every eye in the building turn to me.
I caught Colter and Raff’s eyes first, and they knew me well enough to read the seriousness on my face. I looked at Saint next, watching his chin lift, his shoulders stiffen. Then, finally, Syn.
“Party’s over for tonight,” I said. “Girls, Raff will order rides for you.”
“But we were—” the blonde started to object.
“Of course,” her cousin, a townie, said, grabbing the blonde and giving her a wide-eyed look.
There was nothing but awkward silence then as the girls gathered their things and followed Raff outside to the rideshare.
Slash’s bike rumbled up the street first.
Then Detroit, Sway, Crow, Riff, Rook, and Judge.
“Everyone’s gone?” Slash asked as the group moved into the messy common room.
“Yeah,” Raff assured him, closing and locking the door.
“Good. Alright,” Slash said, looking at me. “What is the situation?”
“Better I just show you,” I said. “Give me a sec.”
With that, I made my way back to the supply closet, unlocking the door, and finding Rafe in the process of trying to rig a mop into a weapon.
“Come on,” I said, deciding not to even acknowledge the attempt to fight his way out. In the same situation, any sane person would do whatever was necessary to get away.