Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I smile, shutting the door. “Put the kid on the phone.”
“He's busy.”
“What do you mean 'busy'? Put him on.”
“Him and Melissa are playing COD.”
My jaw clenches at how close this girl is getting to people I care about. “Just put him on, Jada.”
She sighs before yelling out to him.
He answers. “'Sup?”
“Little man,” I tell him. “Watch out for your mama when I'm gone.”
“Yes, sir!”
“You remember the plan if anything happens to me?”
“Cash is buried 5X, 2Y, take mum and go.”
He repeats the coordinates I set out for him. I've had this plan of action ready for him and Jada since he was a baby.
“You got that, kid. Can you do something extra for me?”
“Yeah...?” he answers suspiciously, his voice carrying a hint of caution that reminds me how quickly he's growing up, learning to read between the lines just like I taught him.
“If Melissa is there, make sure she gets home too, okay?” I keep my voice steady, casual, though my knuckles whiten around the phone. She doesn't need to get caught up in our mess if things go sideways.
“But you're coming back, right?” he asks, the slight waver in his voice betraying his practiced toughness. For all his bravado, he's still just a kid who's seen too much loss already.
I smile, leaning against the van's cold metal, with the weight of my gun pressed at my side. It’s a constant reminder of the life we live. “Of course. Can't get rid of me that easy. I've survived worse odds than this, little man. See you later, kid.”
“Later, Uncle Hux,” he replies, his voice brightening just enough to tell me he believes me, or at least wants to. That faith alone is enough to make me twice as careful with whatever's waiting for us tonight.
Shutting my phone, we walk into the clubhouse for a final round-up. A few prospects nod respectfully as we pass, their eyes quickly returning to the floor. Tonight's not just another night, and everyone can feel the tension hanging in the air.
When I walk into the boardroom, Beast is on the phone, his massive frame hunched over the old table that's seen decades of club business.
He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he mutters, watching me while I settle into my usual chair. “Yeah, seems fair.” His thick fingers drum against the scarred tabletop, then stop abruptly when he notices me noticing. He clears his throat. “Need me to sort that out with Asha?” he adds, tilting his head. For just a second, I catch a glimpse of the boy he must have been once, worried about doing the right thing. “She knows, and she wants to go instead of Layla, so I don't think you have much convincing to do. She'll do anything for her sister, Tiny.”
He listens for a moment, expression darkening as he processes whatever's being said on the other end. "Alright, let me know if you need any help," he says before hanging up and tossing the phone onto the table with a clatter echoing through the nearly empty room.
I flick my fingers toward it, settling deeper into my chair. Beast's jaw tenses, the muscle jumping beneath stubbled skin. “He pissed?”
“Not really, but his dick is doing the thinking for him. He sees this as his in with Asha. Good luck to fucking him. The girl is a banshee.”
My laugh echoes off the empty walls as I pull out my seat. The other brothers' voices drift from outside where they're organizing the van. I fish out a joint, flame dancing as I light it, the familiar burn filling my lungs. “Remember that time you made it rain blood at that underground poker ring for Vanguard?” The joint passes from my fingers to his.
His shoulders drop slightly, the same ritual we perform before every big hit.
He sighs. “Yeah, I remember. There's something I didn't tell you about that hit.” He hands me back the joint, exhaling out a thick cloud of smoke.
“Yeah?” I ask, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. My fingers dance along the edge of the table as I study his face for clues. “What's that? You've never held anything back about a job before.”
He rests his elbows on the table. “There was a little girl there. I let her live.”
A loud cough ripples through my chest, and it wasn't from the ganja. “What the fuck! Why?”
He shrugs. “I don't fucking know. She would have been no older than four, Hella. I couldn't fucking do it. She was clutching this little fucking brown and pink bear, I just couldn't.”
I sigh, leaning back into my seat. “You know, back then, I would have had no issue with ending her. But now that I have Garret? There's no way, man. It shows how much living in that fucked-up life messed with our heads.”
Beast agrees. “Exactly, and that's why we're going in deep today.”