Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Squinting, he searched the shadows while listening carefully.
Why the fuck was he still standing there? It was safer inside where he had plenty of beer, a bong, and a baseball bat.
Only six steps away from the door, he heard something again. This time it sounded like the crunch of gravel underneath feet.
That was either one big fucking skunk or another type of animal.
One with two feet instead of four.
He reached for his cell phone to turn on the flashlight app but before he had a good grip on it, something came at him hard and fast.
Romeo didn’t even get a chance to react before he found himself not only on his knees, but unable to breathe.
Chapter Thirty-Two
That was no goddamn skunk unless the striped bastard knew how to use a fucking tire iron.
He could safely say it wasn’t a fucking squirrel, either.
But it was a pack of animals. He had no idea how many because he was now on the ground unable to get up, unable to see shit since warm liquid was blinding him.
Not tears. Thicker, like blood.
Something hard had knocked his brain loose and his head now pounded in time with his racing heart.
He needed to get up and either fight back… or escape.
Was he going to fucking die behind Dick’s and only a few yards from his own damn door?
As soon as he tried to clear the blood from his eyes and right the tilting, spinning world, something slammed into his gut, dropping him flat to the ground again.
Jesus fuckin’ Christ.
He couldn’t even catch a damn breath when the hits kept coming. One after the other, after the other. Were they all taking a shot at him? Like a fucking piñata? The only problem was, if they broke him open, they would not find any damn candy.
He tried to roll into a ball to at least protect his most vulnerable places, but the pain only became even more unbearable when he moved. He probably had broken bones and shit.
Whoever was surrounding him was shouting at him, too, but he couldn’t clear his head enough to figure out what they yelled. Not that he gave a fuck right now since he was too busy trying to stay alive.
If he survived, he’d get answers. One way or another.
A random thought made it through to his fuzzy brain. Did Maddie have the Fury come down to kick his ass?
Was one of them Shade?
Was she that fucking pissed at him? If so, while he deserved her anger, she was taking it to a whole other level.
Women could be damn good at revenge. Sometimes they were more dangerous than men.
A few seconds later he was being dragged across the ground. His arms and legs were useless to fight it. Hell, he couldn’t lift his arms enough to cover his head to avoid the blows.
They were breaking him piece by piece.
He’d never been so goddamn helpless in his life.
The last time he’d been jumped like this was in prison. At the time, he’d been warned by his cellie that it was coming. That gave him enough time to prepare and plan a counterattack.
Unlike then, he had no warning this time.
Being behind Dick’s, his only hope was that a Knight or an employee would step out back, see the fuck what was going on and get help.
Whether he continued breathing or not, he wanted these fuckers identified. If someone killed the Knights’ prez, his brothers would be out for revenge. Even if it ended up being the Fury teaching Romeo a fucked up “lesson.”
He wasn’t sure how long the attack lasted. It could’ve been a minute. It could’ve been ten.
Romeo’s last lucid thought was that it sure as fuck seemed like an eternity.
Romeo blinked. A bright light made him wince and close his eyes again.
With a groan, he lifted a single eyelid to double check.
When you died, you were supposed to walk toward the bright light, right?
Wait. Did he actually qualify to get through the pearly gates?
No fucking way.
Or was it a trick? An attempt to lure him to follow the light and then once the gates were slammed shut behind him, he’d find himself in a very hot spot? Burning for all eternity?
That would suck.
Fuck the light. He was going to resist for as long as he could. He wasn’t going willingly. He would have to be dragged kicking and screaming—
“Romeo!”
God or Satan, he couldn’t tell which, had a very familiar voice.
Damn, they were trying to trick him by using Wick’s voice. He wasn’t falling for it.
“Rome!”
“Not goin’,” he moaned. “Fuck off.” Why did it even hurt to talk? Or, hell, breathe?
What the fuck? Why was he feeling pain at all? He was dead. He wanted a goddamn refund if you still suffered after death.
“Rome! Wake up before I hafta call a fuckin’ ambulance.”