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)
“Gash didn’t believe it either. He went looking for Beck early this morning. Found his car a few blocks away from Ruben’s. They’d shoved him inside and tried to torch it, but the flames didn’t take. Sloppy bastards.”
“Goddamn it!” I turned and slammed my fist into the wall, busting through the drywall. I’d fucked up, and it weighed on me in ways I’d never be able to explain. Understanding my anguish, Seven remained silent and gave me time to process. “I need to see him!”
“I don’t think...”
“I wanna fucking see him!”
Without arguing any further, I charged past him and out of the room. I saw nothing but red as I made my way down the hall and into the infirmary. When I stormed in, Beckett was lying lifeless on a gurney. His eyes were closed, and at first glance, he looked to be sleeping. But then, I saw that his clothes had been cut from his body, and he was covered in blood. Blade was standing over him, cleaning him little by little.
I walked over, and bile rose to my throat when I saw the bullet wounds in his chest and head. Fuck. He was just a kid. He had his whole fucking life ahead of him, and he was lying on that gurney because I wasn’t there to stop him from going into that house. “This shit should’ve never happened. It’s on me. I should’ve done more to make sure...”
“Nah, brother. Don’t do that to yourself. This shit isn’t on you.” Blade sounded sincere as he said, “Beck was always a live wire. You never knew what the hell he was gonna do.”
“No, it was my job to protect him, and I failed.”
“Prez and Memphis both said the same thing.” Blade placed his hand on my shoulder as he tried to reassure me, “This whole thing is fucked up. You don’t need to make it worse by putting blame where it doesn’t belong.”
“This couldn’t get any worse.”
“You best go and check in with the others.” He glanced down at Beck, then said, “They’re trying to figure out what the hell we’re gonna do about all this.”
I nodded, then made my way out of the room and down the hall to the conference room. I could feel the tension crackling around the room as I walked over to my place at the table. I looked around at my brothers, and like me, they seemed to be just as stunned and enraged by the news of what had happened to Beck.
I was hoping to have a moment with Prez, so I could give him my condolences and assure him that we would avenge his son’s death. But he wasn’t there. Creed, our VP, stood in his place. His expression was stoic as he called us to order.
“I know you’re all eager to speak with Prez and give him your regards, but it’s best to give him some space. He needs it and deserves it, and I expect you all to respect that.”
“Understood.”
“I know they aren’t all involved in this, but Ruben is one of their leaders. If we go after him, we gotta go after them all.”
“Agreed.”
“Shep has already started working on finding us all the names and addresses of every known Assassin in town, and he’ll track their phones to find their current locations.”
Shepard was the club’s hacker. He used his computer as a way of looking out for us in a way that no one else could, and he did it well. From tracking folks down to breaking into the FBI’s database, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do on that computer, and that included finding anyone associated with the Assassins.
“We’ll use what he finds to decide how we want to move forward.” Anguish marked our VP’s face as he confessed, “You should all know upfront that this whole thing is a goddamn clusterfuck. These guys are spread out all over town, so when we hit, we gotta hit hard and fast. Their hangout. Their homes. Their fucking cars. We’ve gotta be everywhere at once, or they’re gonna get the best of us.”
“Not gonna happen.” I showed no emotion as I told them, “We’re gonna get these motherfuckers. One by one. And everyone around will be better off when we do.”
“You’re right about that.” Creed turned his attention to me as he asked, “How are you wanting this thing to go?”
“We hit the bar first, see who we can take out there. Then, we split up, go to the addresses Shep finds for us, and hunt down whoever’s left.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s do it.”
And with that, Creed stood, and we all followed him out to the artillery room. It was hidden beneath the garage, and it contained everything we could possibly need for battle—from guns and knives to bulletproof vests. We’d gathered what we needed, then headed out to the parking lot.