Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Where are they?” she asked, looking at Saint.
“Syn has them in the kitchen. They don’t need to see what’s out there.”
“I need to talk to them.” She glanced at me, her tone apologetic. “Alone.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” I agreed. “You’ve got a lot to talk about. Just gonna walk you out there.”
With that, Saint kicked at Roach’s body, double-checking my handiwork.
Dylan followed me out.
The dogs followed Dylan.
If I thought we all looked like a horror movie, it was nothing compared to the clubhouse.
Saint must have flicked on the lights as he cleared the house. Every splash, splatter, and pool of blood was painfully on display. As were the mangled bodies of the club men.
If I’d been expecting some kind of regret or remorse, it never came.
Every single one of them had a part in drugging and exploiting unwilling women. They’d likely all taken turns abusing them themselves.
They had it coming to them.
Even if the mess was a little hard to stomach with the adrenaline and rage draining.
“I’ll come out when I’m done,” Dylan said as she stopped outside the doorway to the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “You’ve got this. You’ve waited a year for this. You’re free. They’re free. It’s all over. They just need your strength now. For what comes next. You’ve got more than enough to lend them some.”
Her eyes went watery again.
But she quickly blinked the moisture away.
“Hey, Colter?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I’m in too,” she said.
Then, in a mildly chickenshit move, she ducked quickly into the kitchen, knowing I wouldn’t follow.
I didn’t.
I just stood there for a moment, letting the words sink in, feeling them spread across my chest. The pleasure of it chased away all the various pains that had started to nag at me.
When Syn moved out of the kitchen, Saint appeared out of nowhere, jerking his head toward the front of the building.
“Realistically, how much can you pull it together?” he asked.
“I can do whatever Slash wants us to do.”
“They are four or five hours out, max. But these bodies are going to stiffen up by then. And, well, we don’t really need the girls seeing this.”
“You want to move the bodies,” I concluded.
“I want them in the woods. Out of sight of the road and the girls. The guys will help us start digging when they get here. They’re bringing the gear we will need.”
“Alright. Let’s get moving then,” I said.
I was favoring my arm and ribs.
Saint was trying to pretend he wasn’t babying his knee.
And Syn was attempting not to show his brother the way his one arm dangled.
I didn’t rat him out. I just lent my good arm and helped him drag each body, one by one, outside.
Saint found an old wheelbarrow that made the job somewhat easier.
But by the time all the bodies were hauled out into a line in the woods and we put a tarp over them, we were all drenched in sweat. And if how I was feeling was anything to go by, we were all hurting like hell too.
“Alright. I’ve kept my mouth shut long enough,” I said as we closed in on the clubhouse again. Saint’s gaze cut to me, brows knitted. “I think your brother broke his arm or collarbone,” I told Saint.
“What?” Saint barked, his whole body stiffening.
His gaze moved over his brother, who shot me a frustrated look.
“Sorry, man. You couldn’t keep it from him forever.”
“Let me see,” Saint demanded.
I was only vaguely aware of them speaking, though, as Dylan moved into the doorway and gave me a shaky smile.
“You okay?” I asked.
She’d been crying.
I’d bet good money all the others had been too.
She gave me a tight nod.
“So, you’re in this, huh?” I asked, sliding an arm around her.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I don’t know what that means yet, future-wise. But yes.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to figure out all that other shit,” I said, pressing my forehead to hers.
“There is one thing, though,” she said, glancing behind her where two dogs were standing, watching her patiently. “Two, I guess.”
“We’ve got three dogs now, huh?”
The look she gave me right then made my chest feel fucking tight; it was so full.
It was sweet, hopeful, unguarded.
Everything I’d been waiting for.
And now I had it.
I had her.
Nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dylan
I was surprised how difficult it had been to walk into that kitchen and face three of the women I used to know as sisters. Especially considering speaking to them had been my biggest motivator for the past year.
I guess it was partly the guilt.
The responsibility I felt for what they went through.
Even if I understood it wasn’t my fault.
I just hadn’t been there at the time.
And if I had, who was to say the same fate wouldn’t have been mine?
Aside from that, though, I think some part of me intrinsically knew that we weren’t the same women we’d been the last time we saw each other. Time and circumstance had changed us all in fundamental ways.