Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Don't think he's gonna get drawn out that easy, but anything to unsettle him as we move deeper and deeper into the office. Turns out to be easier than I expected. As we move around a corner, there he is, holding Dakota in front of him like a shield, his gun pressed right up against her temple. She whimpers, and the sound makes me wanna rip Dillard limb from fucking limb with my bare hands.
“I'd rather hide behind a woman and live than die, like you three fucks will.” He sneers. “You even raise those guns, and she’s dead. Jesus Christ, you assholes don’t know when to quit. Put the guns down on the floor. Now. Or I fucking kill her.”
“You kill her, and we will fucking tear you apart. You won't leave this place alive.” Stiff's voice is icier than the Arctic.
“Right, like you would pat me on the head and let me go if I don’t.”
Lash’s smile is razor sharp. “There are a lot of ways to die, man. Some of them are easier than others.”
“None of you would dare take a shot. That’s the problem with getting attached. It makes you weak.” He flexes his arm, tugging Dakota against him and cutting off her air supply just long enough to make her cough. I'm gonna fucking kill him. I don't care how, but he's already on borrowed time.
“Logan?” Dakota gets out when the cough passes.
“He's safe,” I say with all the confidence in the world.
She nods quickly, just barely, with the little range of motion she's got. “If anything happens to me.”
“It fucking won’t,” I snap.
“If it does. Take care of Logan for me, okay? I trust you to make good decisions for him.”
“Oh my God,” Dillard whines. “Blah blah blah. Just back off already. Get out of the fucking building and maybe I won’t blow her head off.”
Her eyes narrow, looking right at us. “Keep Logan safe.”
Oh fuck.
She throws her head backwards, catching Dillard right in the fucking face. He roars as his gun goes off.
“Dakota!”
She falls forwards, while Dillard rocks back, his nose spurting blood. I don't even think about it. One moment he's knocked back, the next I put a bullet through his ugly face. Three loud cracks shatter the air, as all three of us fire at the same time. His scream is almost soundless as his face turns into a bloody mess, then he collapses in a lifeless pile on the cheap industrial carpeting.
My gut clenches when I see her on the floor, curled up and face down. “Dakota!”
She groans. Thank fuck, at least she's alive. “How come no one ever told me how painful it is to do that?”
Lash scoops her right up off the floor and squeezes her so tight she squeaks. “Don't you ever, and I mean ever fucking do that again or I'll fucking kill you myself.”
And then we're all there, around her, pulling her between us as we kiss her, touch her, convince ourselves that she's fine and that Dillard didn't manage to put a bullet through her after all. And she kisses us back, touches us back, and fuck if it's not the most amazing thing I've ever felt.
“Put me down. Where’s Logan?”
“Come.” I pull her loose from the group hug and drag her back towards the entrance, where I throw open the door to the bathroom. Logan's so excited to see her that he actually drops the helmet to come running.
“Mommy!”
“Oh, Lo, baby, just let me hold you.” She cradles him close, squeezing him hard and crying into his unruly hair. “Are you okay?”
“I helped Lash and Jackal and Stiff,” he declares proudly.
I grin. “You sure did, buddy. You helped save Mommy from the angry man.”
“Auntie Georgia said the motorcycle men are good. Not the cops.” The way he fucking smiles up at us… if I wasn't already ready to fucking kill for both him and Dakota, well, I would be now.
“She did,” Dakota agrees, refusing to let go of him.
“Speaking of cops. We should get outta here.” Stiff looks down the hall then out the broken glass door. “Someone's bound to have noticed something by now.”
Lash scoops up the helmet. “We got everything we came here for. Let's fuck off.”
“Mommy! Lash—”
“It's fine, Lo. Just this once.”
I hope she realizes that it's not gonna be just this once. Because there's no way we're gonna let her go after all this.
No fucking way.
39
DAKOTA
With Stiff’s broad body between my legs, his muscular torso to cling to, and the predatory rumble of the engine underneath me while the wind cools my face, I totally understand why they love motorcycles so much. Maybe when I’m not covered in blood spatter and have a chance to process the trauma of… of everything, we can try again and I can relax into it and enjoy the feel of the road beneath us and the wind in my hair.