Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Can’t blame you there.”
The low hum of country tunes played from the jukebox in the corner, barely covering the thud of my boots as I walked across the room and sat down next to my brothers. I’d just started to pour myself a drink when Goose looked towards the doorway and asked, “Beck not with ya?”
“Afraid not.” I topped off the glass, then took a long drink. “He decided to hang out at Amy’s place for a bit.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” I took another sip, then said, “You know how Beck is when he gets something in his head.”
“Yeah, he can really dig in the heels.” Rusty’s brows furrowed as he said, “Surprised Prez was okay with him staying over there.”
“He wasn’t.”
“So, what’s he gonna do about it?”
“He’s on his way over there now.” I shrugged. “Maybe he can talk some sense into him. If not, I’ll go back in the morning and try again.”
“I can try, too,” Goose offered. “If you think it’ll do any good.”
“Might take you up on that.”
He reached for my bottle of Wild Turkey and poured it into his glass. “So, how were our boys in Washington doing?”
“They seemed to be making it alright.” I chuckled as I said, “A lot’s changed, and they seem to be adjusting to it all, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see Cotton as anything but the president. Same goes for Stitch. He was one hell of an enforcer, and it’s hard to think of him as anything else.”
“Yeah, we’ve all heard the stories about Stitch, and the crazy shit he’s done.” Rusty’s eyes skirted over to me. “But then again, I’m sure they’ve heard the same shit about you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Seriously? Remember what you did to those Benton brothers?” Rusty cleared his throat. “I never knew acid could do that. Fucked me up for months. Just like hearing about Stitch and the blowtorch. Fuck. That shit was all kinds of fucked up. I don’t know how you two do the things you do.”
“Be interestin’ to see you two working together.”
Goose smirked as he said, “It’d be even more interestin’ to see you two go against each other.”
“That’d never happen.”
“Yeah, but it would definitely be a fight worth watchin’.” Rusty gave me a smirk. “I know he’s a legend and all, but I think you could take him.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
Rusty and Goose continued with the pestering as we poured another drink and then another. It seemed like I’d barely sat down when an hour had passed, and the booze had caught up with me. I decided to call it a night, and the boys followed after. Since I’d been drinking, I skipped driving home and stayed in my room at the clubhouse.
It wasn’t much, just a bed, dresser, and TV, but it came in clutch on nights like these. I got undressed and crawled into bed, and I was out the second my head hit the pillow. I was sleeping like a baby when there was a pounding on my door. Without waiting for me to answer, Seven opened my door and charged into my room. “Grim! Gonna need you to get up.”
“Yeah.” The look on his face was enough to have me jump out of bed and start getting dressed. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Beck.”
“What about him?”
His voice trembled with urgency. “Ah, shit, brother. He fucked up. He fucked up bad.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Gash got a call from one of his buddies, and he told him that he’d heard some rumor that Beck had gone over to Ruben’s place late last night.”
Ruben was an Assassin and not just any Assassin.
He was one of their main guys, and he wouldn’t think twice about going to throws with anyone who tried any shit with him or his boys. Everyone knew that, including Beckett. My throat tightened. I already knew the answer before I asked, “Why the fuck would he go there?”
“He’d gotten into another round with Prez and took off. Guess he decided to go over there and confront the guys who killed Amy. They weren’t expecting him, so he was able to barge right in and start shooting. Managed to take out a couple of them, but that’s as far as he got.”
Again, I already knew the answer when I asked, “What are you saying?”
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t have to. I could tell by his expression that Beckett was gone, and that revelation hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. I felt an overwhelming sense of regret, guilt, and grief. It was hard enough to lose someone close, but it was even harder to lose someone knowing that I’d had a part to play in it.
I started replaying different scenarios in my head, trying to figure out where I might’ve been able to intervene or offer some kind of help, but I just found one dead end after the other. I took a step back and shook my head. “No, that can’t be right. He was fine. He was...”