Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I stare in horror as everything unfolds in front of the big screen with cheerleaders dancing during a break. The closest thing I’ve ever seen to what’s happening is at a concert when you see people standing completely still watching the stage while there’s a swirling mass of bodies slamming into each other a few feet away.
A mix of angry roars and joyful cheering fills the big room as it turns into a free-for-all brawl, right in front of me. I feel like I should be doing something, but I really don’t know what. Like, what can I do?
Not that I think they need help. The other guy who defended me is fighting right next to Mad Dog, and there’s no clear side. Maybe everyone’s just on their own side. It’s too chaotic for me to tell, but the fact that in addition to angry grunts and yowls of pain, wild laughter is at least a big part of the mix, I’m starting to think they’re all just crazy.
“Are they having… fun?”
Riptide chuckles as he flexes his fingers, like he’s eager to get in there too. “Getting the shit kicked out of you is good medicine sometimes. Sure, some of the boys are gonna wake up real fucking sore in the morning, but it’s worth it.” He moves even closer to my ear so he can whisper into it, “Like a good, hard fuck.”
“You have a one-track mind. You know that?”
“Hard not to with you in my lap.”
“Then let me—”
“Nope.” He slips his hand under my shirt instead. “Can you really tell me there’s nothing appealing about watching him fight for your honor? Think about it, when the fight’s over, where do you think all that energy is gonna go? Maybe you’ll need to check for damage.” He cups my breast over my bra, his clever thumb finding my nipple through the thin fabric.
There’s a literal brawl happening right in front of us, but now his lips are brushing right where my neck meets my shoulder…
“Riptide…” I barely get out.
“Yeah?” He pinches my nipple, making me gasp.
“We can’t just—”
The brawl shifts our way, so close that a guy being chased by Mad Dog nearly stumbles right into us. Riptide moves faster, swinging me away from the fight and taking the hit himself. Mad Dog pats Riptide on the head twice before he’s gone, a wild grin on his face.
A door slams open above us. “What the fuck’s going on out here?” Eagle-eye’s gravelly voice carries over the noise of the fighting. “I can’t fucking think up here!”
And as suddenly as it began, the brawl ends in a comical freeze-frame of bikers in different positions of fighting, either looking ready to fall, or ready to punch. One is actually on another’s shoulder, either about to be pile-driven or used as a weapon. He topples with a grunt, falling over the back of a couch.
Eagle-eye glares down from the platform outside his office, leaning against the railing. The crowd breaks up under his glare, going back to their seats like they weren’t trying to kill each other a second ago.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m trapped with a bunch of fucking children.” He scans the room and spots us. “Get your asses upstairs. Shadow’s waiting.” Then he turns, goes back into his office and slams the door behind him.
“Guess we’re up to bat,” Mad Dog says, rejoining us. He has a red stain on his cheek.
“Come here.” I crook my finger at him. When he leans closer, I lick my thumb and wipe away the blood. It must be someone else’s.
“A little hot, right?” Riptide whispers.
Mad Dog grins. “Let’s go.”
19
MELODY
Going from the chaos downstairs to the quiet interrogation room is a jarring experience. Rebel raises an eyebrow at Mad Dog, whose hair and clothes still look, well, like he just jumped out of a brawl.
I might be back in the same room, surrounded by the same men, but the feeling in the room isn’t as hostile as it was yesterday. Mad Dog, Rebel and Riptide at least are here supporting me, not as prison guards.
“Are you ready?” Shadow slides my phone across the table to me.
I pull it the rest of the way. It feels like passing a lit grenade. “What should I say?”
“Let him lead the conversation at first. He’s going to know something’s fucked by now and we’ll probably have to hop in, but I wanna hear what his first reaction is.”
I nod. I can do that.
Outlaw starts recording, and Rebel has a legal pad and a pen to take notes. I hope I’m not going to regret this. If I get my father killed, even if it’s because of his own actions, I don’t know if I can forgive myself.
I tap Dad’s contact and wait for him to pick up. Part of me hopes he doesn’t.