Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Emotions storm through me. Regret and anguish most of all.
As I heave in a breath, barely standing straight, I feel ragged and shaken. I can barely believe any of the events of today have happened.
Before I can speak a word, Reed states, “You’ve gotta leave the car, Kat. Don’t drive it anymore tonight.”
“How do you–Were you following us?”
“No. I got a call from my buddy … the bodyguard at the strip joint. He saw everything but it’s taken care of.”
He doesn’t look me in the eye and he doesn’t look to Cill either. The man in front of me is a man who came out of a debt he owes.
“Are you okay?” I question, feeling the weight of it all.
He offers me a sad smile with the shake of his head, his deep brown eyes echoing a sorrow I know all too well. One of loss and regret. One that’s given up but still has to move on.
“Reed–”
He cuts me off. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go. Neither of you should be driving right now.”
With my eyes locked on his, I wish he could feel everything I feel. I wish he knew everything I’m thinking. For a moment, it feels as if he might.
“I just want to fix this,” I whisper but I doubt my words are heard over the sirens that steal our attention.
I turn around and poke my head into the car. “We’re going with Reed.”
“No we’re fucking not,” says Cill.
“We need to go to Nello’s … by The Ruin,” Reed speaks over me, easily heard by Cillian.
It’s a restaurant that has a private back room. It’s hours away, in Desolation, New York. Club members go there when they want a private conversation, or to wait out a complicated situation. It’s a nice restaurant, fancy even. I certainly can’t afford it on my own. That’s maybe the best cover of all. People don’t think members of the MC would eat at a place with white tablecloths.
“Come on, Cill,” I say softly.
“We’ll walk,” Cill shouts out the window at Reed. “That’ll be enough time to get them off our backs. We’ll fucking walk there.”
“You’re not going to walk there like that. I saw you come out of the gas station. I know you’re bleeding,” Reed answers.
Cill is silent for another long moment, then he curses under his breath and gets out.
I climb into Reed’s car first. Cill’s still pissed, and I don’t blame him. I would be furious and heartbroken. I would be a fucking wreck.
“We just need a place to calm down,” Reed says. “We can talk while we’re there, man.”
“There’s nothing you can say.”
“I think there is,” Reed replies. “I think there are things you need to know. Fuck, Cill. This isn’t how I wanted this to play out. I sure as hell know you wanted it different. We all did. Get in the car.”
Reed
One year ago
When I open the door to Kat’s place, the first thing I notice is the broken frame in the foyer. My blood spikes with adrenaline as I search for any evidence of a break-in.
“Kat?” I call out her name, attempting to close the door quietly behind me although it creaks.
“In here,” her somber voice calls out and I’m given a fraction of a second to feel relief until I hear her crying.
Kicking the door closed, I bypass the broken glass from the destroyed frame and head to the kitchen to find Kat covering her face at the sink. The water’s running and when she peeks up at me, her eyes are swollen from crying and her reddened cheeks are tearstained.
“You okay?” Every step I take is careful as I approach her. In satin pink pajamas and without an ounce of makeup on, she’s both gorgeous and utterly raw. A primitive side of me wants to console her; another side craves to comfort her in the way I know she needs.
She sniffles and turns off the water, giving me her back as she reaches for the kitchen towel to pat her face dry.
Tossing the towel down she gives me a careless shrug as if she hasn’t lost all composure.
“What happened to the picture?”
“I threw it,” she admits with feigned strength and then her composure seems to diminish, leading her to confide in me.
“He yelled at me. Like I’m the reason his father died? He just … he’s losing it and I can’t help him.”
As tears well in her eyes, she grips the counter to hold her balance. “I loved his dad too. What can I do? I don’t know what to do.”
She loses it, and as she covers her face, turning away from me, I casually approach her. She’s wounded and I know the feeling. Cill’s father was a second father to me.
His death was sudden and I know Cill’s not taking it well.