Tarnished (Ruined #7) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Ruined Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
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“You’re such a fucking⁠—”

Her words were cut off when her fucking head exploded, her brain matter and blood splattering over my skin. I blinked in surprise as she slumped to the side, falling off the mattress and hitting the floor with a sickening thump. I looked up to see who the intruder was, and every muscle in my body sagged at the sight of River and Joey.

“Holy fucking shit,” River snarled, horror filling his eyes. He rushed to me as he strapped his weapon behind his back. Joey did the same, both of them working quickly to pick the locks on the shackles binding my arms and legs to the table. I grunted in pain when each limb was released. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to freely move. I hadn’t had a bowel movement in days due to no food being given to me, and they’d been forcing me to just piss all over myself.

“We’re getting you out of here,” Joey assured me just as gunshots exploded upstairs.

River hauled me off the bed, and I muttered a curse, my throat raw and painful. My knees wobbled, threatening to give out beneath me, and Joey quickly wrapped his arm around my waist, both he and River supporting my weight. “We can carry—” Joey started, but I shook my head.

“No,” I croaked. “Walk.”

River clearly didn’t like my answer, but he clenched his jaw and nodded anyway. Together, they helped me up the many stairs that led out of the basement. Each step was agonizing, and a couple of times, I ended up sinking to one knee, my legs not strong enough to hold me up. But every time my legs failed me, River and Joey hauled me back up and forced me to keep moving.

The gunshots grew louder with each step further up the stairs, and by the time we emerged from the basement, the gunshots were deafening. Shouts of pain exploded through the halls. Orders were yelled. And all the while, Alejandro’s men moved like smoke, taking out targets effortlessly while Vern—one of our patched members—Holden—our Sergeant at Arms—and Ink—Joey’s VP—rushed over to us, guarding the three of us as Joey and River led me to the nearest exit.

“He needs a hospital,” Joey told River as they led me to the van waiting just outside the doors. River grunted as they settled me into the back.

“We’ll get him there,” Vern said, looking over at Holden, who nodded once in agreement. “Take all these mother fuckers out.”

Joey clapped Vern’s shoulder before he and River rushed back inside. Vern jumped into the back of the van with me, and Holden rushed to the driver’s seat. I grunted in pain when Holden stepped on the gas, lurching us forward right over a rough bump.

“Sorry!” Holden called. “You’re fucking bleeding everywhere, Tank.”

I looked down at myself. He wasn’t wrong. And I probably should’ve been alarmed by the amount of blood seeping from my ass, but I was too tired. Too exhausted. Just fucking bone-deep done with it all.

“Beck? Clarke?” I rasped, my eyelids drooping as Holden hit the highway, gunning the van to make it go as fast as it could.

“They’re safe, brother,” Vern assured me as he draped a worn, soft blanket over my naked body. “They’ve been safe from the very moment you sacrificed yourself for them. They miss you.”

A small smile tilted my lips. “I miss them, too,” I rasped.

And then, the world faded to black, the pain, exhaustion, and lack of food and proper hydration officially taking me away.

25

Clarke

Beck wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders. We’d been sitting here for hours, desperately waiting to hear something. Anything. But everyone that had gone on the rescue mission for Tank had gone radio silent. I’d barely been able to stomach food or sleep for the past two weeks Tank had been missing, but the past several hours had been even worse. The one time Adelaide had gotten me to finally eat, I’d just vomited it right back up, my stomach rejecting the sustenance I knew I needed.

Adelaide’s burner phone suddenly rang, and I jerked my head up from Beck’s shoulder, clipping him on the chin. He grunted, but when I turned to apologize, he shook his head, gesturing for me to stay silent. So, I did, focusing back on the woman who was now staring out the window, her back to us, listening to whatever the person calling her had to say.

After a minute, she pulled her phone down from her ear and turned to face us. A small smile tilted her lips, and my heart clenched in my chest, hope threatening to burst through. Reaching through the blanket, I latched my hand around Beck’s, squeezing hard enough that it had to hurt, though he gave no inclination that it did.


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