Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“It’s done. Let’s go,” Alex orders.
I throw the SUV into drive, keeping my lights off, and slam on the gas, tearing across the parking lot. Bringing it to a quick stop next to the Jaguar and Town Car, I barely have it in park before the guys are already jumping out.
Screams erupt as the guys grab the man, and I reach for the girl but not before she gets a fist to Finn’s face.
“Motherfucker!” he growls.
“Let him go,” she cries, jumping on his back like a fucking monkey, wrapping her arm around his neck, choking him.
“Get the fuck off me,” he growls, letting go of the man he was holding. The man goes to run, and I lift my gun, shooting him in the head. The sound leaves a ringing in my ears. He drops like a rock, blood now running down his face.
Putting my attention back on Finn, I watch as he slams his back into the side of the Cadillac, smashing her between it and him, knocking her off. He’s gasping for air and yanking at his mask but not removing it. “Fuck, she’s ballsy.” He grunts.
“Hold her facedown,” I snap, pulling the syringe out of my pocket and biting on the end to remove the cap.
“Don’t touch me!” she screams as he grabs her hair and yanks her to the ground. He then straddles her ass and grabs her hands, pinning them behind her back. I kneel and yank the collar of her shirt down, sticking her in the neck, and she’s out cold instantly.
We both stand and look over the now unconscious girl. Dark red hair fans out around the concrete while she lies motionless. “Put her in the car. I’m going to see if the guys need help,” I say, picking up the cap and putting it back on the syringe before placing it in my pocket.
Tucking my gun back into the waist of my jeans, I walk around to the rear of the Escalade and find the guys tying up our assignment. “Did he give you any trouble?” I ask.
“Nope.” Alex pulls the zip tie tight around his wrists behind his back. “Fucker passed out immediately.”
“Go ahead and shut the hatch. I’m going to sit back here with him.” Jenks nods at me, jumping inside.
Once Alex moves out of the way, I push the button to close it. “Let’s go,” I order Finn, watching him over by the Jag.
“We’ll follow you to dump the Town Car,” I tell Alex, and he nods.
Getting into the Escalade, I watch as Finn closes the driver’s side door to the Jag before walking over and hopping into the passenger seat, and then I drive off.
________________
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later, I’m pulling into the lot behind Blackout—the club that Tyson Crawford owns. I don’t know his story, and I’d never fucking ask. But from what I’ve heard over the years about the Lords, he’s not the typical member.
We all get out, and I walk over to the door reserved for the Lords and us.
Undoing the watch on my left wrist, I move it down around my hand to reveal the black triangle tattoo that has four lines through it. It’s our NDA, as Tyson so nicely put it. The key that grants us unrestricted access to his dark and grim castle.
I slide it under the scanner, and the green light runs over it before the door unlatches. I place my watch back in place to hide it and pull on the steel handle just as Alex comes walking up with an unconscious man over his shoulder. I hold the door open for him and Finn, then Jenks. Locking the SUV, I wait to hear it beep before I pull the door shut.
This entrance takes you straight to the basement, underneath the sounds of the busy club. We make our way down, and I see Tyson standing by a man I know. Not well, but I used to see him around Barrington University.
“You’re late,” Tyson snaps.
“They were late,” Alex growls, tossing our assignment onto a metal table. “You’re welcome.”
The man shakes his head, chuckling. “I see what you mean,” he says to Tyson and then pushes off the wall. “Gentlemen, I’m Ryat Archer.” He reaches out his right hand, and I shake it.
“Colton Knox.”
He nods. “Ty just filled me in on what you guys do.” Ryat finishes his introductions. “How do you like working for the Lords?” he asks.
Alex snorts. “We don’t work for the Lords. We’re just Tyson’s bitches.”
Ryat whistles, looking over at Tyson, who points at the door. “You can leave whenever you want. Just cut that brand off your wrist.”
“I’ll bleed out.” Alex scoffs. “It’d be suicide.”
Tyson just gives him a chilling smile as if that’s the point. The only way out is death. “What’s the damage?” Tyson asks us.