Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Winnie?” a weak voice sounded from the bed.
“Hi, Mom. I did it. The guys are here to collect Niles’s collection. Now we can get you that next treatment,” Winnie said softly as she brushed the frail woman’s hair from her face.
“You are such an angel. Were they nice?” The whisper-soft voice clued Scythe in more than the hospital bed alone that Winnie’s mother was seriously ill.
He swallowed hard as flashes of standing in the hospital beside his father after the accident filled his mind. That awful day had taken his dad and eventually forced his mother to sell the family farm. Even from a short distance away, Scythe could sense that Winnie’s mother was not long for this world. He forced himself to pay attention.
“Of course, Mom. The men will make some noise for a while. Try to go back to sleep if you can.”
Those tired eyes closed once again. When Winnie rejoined him, he wrapped an arm around her waist in comfort and leaned down to whisper, “I’ll tell the guys to be quiet.”
She nodded as tears coursed over her cheeks, creating tracks in the thick makeup. “Thanks.”
Before walking out the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Winnie wrapped her arms around herself. Damn, this wasn’t a good situation. He could connect all the dots easily.
Back at the truck, he gathered his brothers. “Winnie’s mother is seriously ill in the living room. Let’s get this accomplished as quickly and quietly as possible.”
The guys took one look at his face and sobered.
“Got it, Scythe,” Street answered for them.
They followed him silently to the front door. Winnie held a handful of tissues in her hand and had wiped away the tears. Scythe didn’t have the heart to tell her one of her false eyelashes had fallen off.
“Let me show you where the boxes are.” She led them downstairs to the basement. “I’m afraid you’ll have to move some of this stuff to get to them. It’s those black boxes back there, as well as this one I opened to take the photos.”
Vex whistled low. “Is that a flamethrower?”
“I thought they were guns. Are you still interested in them? Lucien seemed to be,” Winnie said, sounding nervous.
“Some are guns, Chipmunk. Others are equally collectible. Lucien will buy what you have,” Scythe assured her.
“Oh, good. Can I just leave it to you?”
“We’ve got this,” Scythe assured her. He understood why she needed the money now. Scythe would make sure Lucien treated her fairly.
He waited until she disappeared up the stairs before warning the others. “I don’t know what else we’re going to find, but none of this should be in the basement of a house that the residents don’t lock. We’ll take everything and take an inventory of everything in the warehouse.”
When the others nodded their agreement, Scythe instructed. “Let’s clear the way to get these out without creating chaos for Winnie. I think she has enough to deal with now.”
In a short time, they’d shifted all the boxes to the side, isolating those that Winnie had pointed out. Scythe checked each box and grew more concerned with the contents. This “collection” exceeded what any casual gun enthusiast would have. The weaponry could equip a small army bent on destruction. What in the world had Winnie’s stepfather been involved with?
As quietly as possible, they carried the bins up the stairs and to the truck. Each time, they rotated a biker to stay behind to guard the items already loaded. The others muscled the heavy containers and held the door.
When they finished, Scythe turned out the lights downstairs and returned to the living room alone as the others guarded the truck. The neighborhood would wake up soon. They needed to get out of there.
“Chipmunk?” he whispered, seeing Winnie slumped, her forehead down on the hospital bed.
She rubbed her eyes and stood to stretch. Winnie wore pajamas and had wet hair. She had showered with them in the house. The exhausted woman had no self-preservation instincts.
“Did you finish?” she whispered.
“Yes. We’ve loaded everything. How do you want your money?”
“Can I give you a canceled check, and you can deposit it?” she asked.
“I only need your phone.”
Winnie searched her pockets and then glanced back at the bed. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted it. When she retrieved it, Scythe put his cell phone number into her device and called himself.
“I’ll be in touch soon, Little girl.” He looked past her to her mother. “What does she need?”
“Hope,” Winnie said without hesitating. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she dashed it away.
Scythe drew her forward into his arms. He cupped the back of her head and leaned forward to kiss her tenderly. “Let me know if you need anything,” he told her in a gruff voice.
She nodded and whispered, “That was a definite B+. Maybe an A-.”