Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I realize that. I’ll take it from here.”
Despite how roughed up these men look, there’s a sharp intelligence that exudes from both of them.
“Where’s LuLu?” I choke out, tugging at my arms that I’m realizing are bound behind me. I’m sitting in a wooden chair in the middle of God knows where.
“Safe now that she’s away from you,” Koyn assures me. “We have people who will make sure she’s taken care of.”
I don’t believe a fucking word.
These men just assaulted me and then accosted us.
“I want to see her,” I growl, struggling in earnest against my bindings. “Now.”
Koyn snorts. “Awfully demanding for someone who traffics little girls.”
What the fuck?
I glower at him, trying not to let on how confused I am. I’m about to demand even more when I feel a cold, sharp blade against the side of my neck from behind. Lips find my ear and the devil himself tickles a warning into my ear.
“We do terrible things to terrible people. Say goodbye to your pathetic cock.”
“Information first, Dragon,” Koyn says, smirking. This guy is amused by the freak show behind me. “Playtime later.”
If playtime involves the removal of my dick, they can play without me.
“You’re fucking with the wrong guy,” I threaten as fear trickles through my veins. “You have no idea who I am.”
Koyn kneels in front of me so I don’t have to strain to see his face. Behind him, a fire blazes in an old fireplace despite how warm it is. There aren’t doors in this building we’re in, so the Oklahoma summer heat and bugs welcome themselves inside. A mosquito nips at my face as if to say hello.
“Caius Crowne,” Koyn says blandly. “Son of the brilliant, influential Orion Crowne.” He snaps his fingers right in front of my face. “I know you people aren’t the good guys. There’s a whole dark underbelly of CUP. While you slept out here, I’ve been picking apart who the fuck you are.”
It unnerves me that these seemingly rednecks are skilled at obtaining information that’s not easy to get.
Wait.
How do I know this?
My mind whirs with clarity despite the thundering headache. The haze that still had its hold on me seems to finally lift. Was it the hit to the head? Maybe these guys just did me a favor.
I need to start talking and fast.
Otherwise, who the hell knows what these men will do to me.
They think I’m like my father or Gareth or Bastian or Solomon. Scum of the earth. Someone who preys on the young or mentally vulnerable.
“You see what we want you to see,” I bite out, meeting the eyes of the hard man. “You’re lucky to have found what you found. In fact, it was probably put there on purpose.”
“To everyone else, we’re powerful and men who move the world forward. But we can’t ever let those far beneath us assume we’re weak. If they know, even through rumor, what we’re capable of, they’ll respect us, Caius. Don’t forget that.”
Koyn’s eyebrows furl, which makes his scar pucker in an odd way. “You’re saying what we know about you was planted there?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past my father.”
“You sound like you don’t agree with him,” Koyn murmurs. “Is this your way of pussying out to protect your own skin?”
The other guy, Copper, approaches, still fuming with anger. “Why were you at Krista’s house? Answer the question or so help me, Dragon is going to make you spray like a fucking water hose at a house fire.”
As if to punctuate this statement, the blade burns hot into my skin. Blood, mixed with sweat, races down the side of my neck. My carotid artery pulsates wildly just millimeters beneath tissue and muscle, barely protected from Dragon’s knife.
“That was my old house,” I hiss out. “My parents used to live there. They were killed in an accident. I was put into foster care and then bounced around until Dad, er, Orion adopted me.”
I leave out the whole mindfuck part of my life at the facility because I don’t know these guys and am not about to spill my story to them.
“Bermuda,” Koyn barks out and stands.
“On it, Prez.”
A few seconds later, another man enters my line of vision, showing Koyn something on his laptop. Who would’ve thought that roughed-up bikers would even know how to use a laptop, much less own one?
“What was your name before the adoption?” Koyn demands, again looking down on me as if I’m filth on the bottom of his scuffed-up boots.
“Johnny Caius McElroy.”
“And why are you here, Johnny?” Koyn waves off Bermuda before cracking his neck in a menacing way. “Why are you with a teenager who looks nothing like you? What exactly were your plans for her when you got her alone?”
When they put it that way, it does seem creepy.
Guilt stabs me in my chest. “I’m trying to help her. This was the first step in slipping off my father’s radar. I swear.”