Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I glance toward the chauffeur, but he doesn't seem the least amount interested in our conversation, and, for that, I'm glad.
We flew into the area on a small private jet, another favor we'll owe Senator Dyer for I have no doubt. The drive through town is stop-and-go due to all the red lights, but it doesn't take as long as I know it can during peak tourist time. I love this area of East Tennessee. I've had the chance to visit here a handful of times in my life, although I can't remember the last time I was able to, right off hand.
William runs his hands down the front of his suit jacket as the car turns into the parking lot of a small, non-descript building. Other than a sedan and a dark SUV parked outside, there seem to be no others around.
William straightens from the car, letting the chauffeur help me out on my side, and I see the transition in him the second he faces the front of the building. He has gone from a man willing to be mildly inconvenienced in the back of a sedan to a politician who might win a vote or two if he does his job well today. But the problem is, this is a family matter. This isn't a job interview, and I'm wondering if William is even capable of recognizing the differences any more.
"Senator Dyer," William says when he enters the building.
The two men shake hands, and I step forward for the greeting, feeling no kind of way with how the senator steps in closer to me and brushes a kiss on my temple.
"William, Cora, this is Diego Anderson and his colleague Eddie Yarrow."
A stocky man in slacks and a long-sleeved sweater steps forward, his hand expected first to William before he holds it out to me. I immediately notice the tattoos that peek out on his wrist when he extends his hand past my brother, and as much as it shouldn't, it makes me view him a little differently.
"Eddie Yarrow," the other man says, drawing my attention from Mr. Anderson.
I shake his hand as well. This man seems to fit more into this situation. He doesn't look out of place in his button-down shirt and slacks.
The other man is wearing boots that seem more tactical than anything else.
"Senator Dyer," I whisper when the other men walk further into the room and begin to sit at a long conference table. "What organization did you say these men were from?"
"Cerberus MC, ma'am," Mr. Anderson says, as if he were meant to be right in the middle of our conversation.
"MC? As in motorcycle club?" William asks before turning back to glare at me, as if I've gotten the family in trouble this time rather than Sadie.
"I assure you, Kincaid and his associates are the best at what they do," Senator Dyer says.
"Kincaid?" I ask, confused.
"That's me. But before anyone gets too deep into judging us, we still haven't agreed to take the case. If you'd like to get started?" Kincaid points to the empty spots across the table from him and the other guy introduced as Eddie Yarrow.
"I swear the shit you get us into," William grouses as we cross the room and take our seats.
I feel deflated as I take the seat my brother finds enough of his manners to pull out for me. I had put a lot of hope into this meeting, but I don't know what a couple of bikers can do for our family. I know I'm passing judgment and that's the very last thing I should do, considering the trouble and people Sadie has found to associate with, but I can't seem to help it.
What I do know is that I trust Senator Dyer, and if he says these guys are the best, then I have to believe it.
"We have a little bit of information," Mr. Anderson begins. "But I'd like it if you could give us a little more detail. If we take this case, Ace will need to know everything."
"Ace?" William asks.
Mr. Yarrow lifts his hand in acknowledgment.
"Sorry for the nicknames," Mr. Anderson apologizes. "Old habits. We've known each other for decades."
"Sadie has a wild streak," I begin, ignoring the way William discreetly presses his shoe next to mine. It's a warning to keep it short and simple. I can tell he already regrets getting on the plane this morning, but I can't lose the opportunity for these men to find our sister. "She has a history with drugs and running around with the wrong crowd."
"We know about the video when she was younger," Mr. Anderson says. I know that has to chap William's ass because my father worked very hard to make it go away, but once it's on the internet, it's there forever.