Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I sent the text, then tossed the phone onto my bed like it had burned me. What the fuck was I doing? This went beyond reckless into full-blown stupid territory. If Ghost caught me — when Ghost caught me, because he always fucking found out — there'd be hell to pay.
But I couldn't sit here while those girls' lives hung in the balance. I just couldn't. I grabbed my leather jacket from the back of a chair, shrugging into it. I hesitated, then went to my nightstand and pulled out the small switchblade Ghost had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Better to have it and not need it than the other way around.
The red neon glow pulsed through my window as I moved silently around my apartment. Ghost had ears everywhere in the compound. If anyone realized I was sneaking out after the scene in his office earlier, they'd run straight to him with the news. I had to be careful.
I opened my door a crack, peered out into the dimly lit hallway. Empty. I slid through the opening and closed the door behind me with a soft click, moving quickly toward the stairs at the end of the hall.
Once I reached the ground floor, instead of heading toward the main exit, I turned toward a service corridor that led to a rarely-used side door. I slipped past the storage rooms to the exit at the end of the hall. I pressed against it slowly, easing it open just enough to slide through. The night air hit my face, cool and damp. The parking lot stretched before me, motorcycles lined up in neat rows, their chrome glinting under security lights. My bike waited at the far end, partially hidden by the shadow of the garage.
When I reached my Harley, I resisted the urge to start it immediately. Instead, I pushed it slowly toward the service road that ran behind the compound, waiting until I was well clear of the main entrance before swinging my leg over the seat and starting her up.
The engine growled to life beneath me, a sound that usually brought comfort but now sent anxiety spiraling through my chest. I gave it gas, pulling away from the compound without looking back. If anyone had seen me, it was too late now.
As I hit the main road, wind whipping through my hair, I tried to silence the voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Ghost. What the hell did I think I was doing? Betraying the only real family I'd ever had for a man who might still be playing me? Or was I doing exactly what Ghost had taught me and standing up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves?
I didn't have answers, only questions and a gnawing certainty that by the time this night ended, I'd either prove my worth to the club or burn every bridge I had. Either way, there was no turning back now. The road stretched before me, dark and uncertain, leading me toward Rocky and whatever truth — or lies — awaited.
Chapter Thirteen
Rocky
Icrouched in the shadows beyond the park's single streetlamp, scanning the area for the third time in ten minutes. The message from Wren made no sense. Why contact me now after our last bitter encounter only a couple of hours ago? A cold breeze whistled through the rusted chains of abandoned swings, creating an eerie rhythm that matched my unease. Something felt off.
I checked my watch. Two minutes to midnight. The night air bit through my leather jacket, but the cold registered as merely an afterthought compared to the storm of anxiety churning in my gut.
I took comfort in the solid weight of my gun at the small of my back. If this turned south, I needed options. The rational part of my brain screamed at me to leave, to call Vittorio and abort whatever clusterfuck this night promised to become. But I couldn't bring myself to walk away. Not when Wren might show up. Not when she might need help, even if she hated admitting it.
The crunch of gravel pulled my attention to the park entrance. A slim figure moved through the shadows, purple hair catching the dim light. My heart hammered against my ribs as I recognized Wren. She moved cautiously, head swiveling to scan her surroundings. Smart girl. The sight of her hit me harder than expected, memories of her body against mine, her scent, her laugh, all flooding back in a rush that almost knocked me back a step.
I stepped into the feeble circle of light cast by the streetlamp. Wren froze as she spotted me. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket. Likely reaching for a weapon.
"You texted me," she said, keeping her distance, voice hard with suspicion.
My blood ran cold. "No. You texted me."