Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Stay calm, mamma. Your boy is fine. He’s in another vehicle.”
Oh sure, sure, no problem. She’d stay calm because it was perfectly normal to have her head covered in some black hood, have her wrists bound, and be shoved into an unknown vehicle by unknown men for unknown reasons.
She couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening and why. “Where are you taking us?”
The only answer she heard was road noise.
“Why are you taking us? My son is only three. Please don’t hurt him.”
“We’re not going to hurt him, mamma.”
She sure hoped they weren’t lying.
This. This right here had to be why Zeke wanted her to move to the farm. Because of the risk of being tied to the DAMC.
This was the kind of shit the previous generations of Angels had to deal with when it came to the Warriors.
This was the proof of why she never should’ve gotten involved with Zeke again.
“Please drop him off so his father can get him. Just take me.”
“We’re not dropping him off. We’re dropping you off.”
None of what he said made any sense. They were dropping her off? Where? Why?
The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, causing her to roll forward. She was only saved from hitting the floorboards by a large hand hooking her elbow.
A door opened and someone else grabbed her, pulling her from the vehicle and setting her on her feet.
They hadn’t even driven that far from her apartment. At most, the ride had taken five minutes.
Though, being visually impaired and scared out of her mind had made keeping track of time a bit difficult.
“About to cut you free. Don’t do anything stupida.”
She might not understand whatever language they kept using, but she definitely understood that last word. Between the slight accent and the foreign words, she was beginning to believe they might be Italian.
She knew of no local Italian motorcycle clubs.
Maybe this had nothing to do with Zeke or the DAMC?
The second the zip-tie was cut, a piece of paper was pushed into her hand.
“Give that to your old man,” came the order.
Her old man?
“If any of you try anything stupid…don’t forget we have your boy.”
While that was not something she’d forget, their point was taken.
Seconds after hearing the slam of car doors, the engine roared and the vehicle raced down the street.
With her heart in her throat, she ripped the black hood off her head. The static electricity from the fabric not only made her hair snap and crackle, it made it stand on end.
But that was the least of her worries as she looked in the direction she’d heard the car speeding off. “Ledger!” she screamed.
She quickly checked her pockets for her phone. Of course, it was nowhere to be found. She either dropped it when they grabbed her or it had been left in her car.
She glanced at the piece of paper clutched in her fingers next.
It contained an address and a message.
Holy shit!
She took in her surroundings, only to discover she was only a single block from the DAMC clubhouse.
None of this made freaking sense! Why would the people kidnapping her son drop her close to there? It couldn’t be coincidence.
Whether it was intentional or not, she began to run, pushing her legs and lungs as hard as they could.
She ran. And ran.
Her mind spun. Her heart pounded. Her lungs burned. Her breathing wheezed.
Then she saw it.
The Iron Horse Roadhouse!
Thankfully, the bar was open since she had no idea if the back gate was unlocked. She wasn’t wasting time to find out.
If he wasn’t in the bar, Zeke would be in the clubhouse waiting for her to drop off Ledger. He could get a hold of Vi and her Shadows to track down whoever was holding their son.
That option might be faster and better than contacting the police.
Yanking open the door, she burst through it and didn’t slow down. No matter how much her body was screaming for mercy.
“Zeke!”
Someone called out, “Kyra?”
She ignored Coop and kept going. She had no time to waste.
“Fuck!” she heard him shout as she slammed both palms against the swinging door that led into the kitchen that divided the public bar from the private club. She hit it so hard it smacked into the wall, but she didn’t slow down. She kept running, hoping she didn’t trip and fall. Or pass out.
“Zeke!”
Ignoring the startled cooks, she burst through the swinging door that deposited her into the MC’s common area.
“Babe, why the fuck is your hair—”
“Zeke!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs when she spotted him standing by a pool table, cue stick in hand.
Despite zeroing in on Zeke, she could sense everyone else freezing in place and take a collective breath.
His expression changed in a flash. From amused to downright scary.
She didn’t stop running until she slammed into him. And when she did, he took the impact with ease, enveloping her in his arms, squeezing her tight, and shoving his face into her hair.