Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
If I lost him, I hoped he knew that would be it for me. I would pull a fucking Romeo and kill myself just so I could be with him in whatever hell hole awaited us after we died.
13
William
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Rurik drawled when I stepped out of the clubhouse. He was already waiting on me, dressed in black slacks, a black button-down shirt, and shiny Oxfords like we were headed for a business meeting and not to literally kill a man.
I shot him a cold stare, but he just continued to look amused. Grabbing his keys from his pocket, he began striding toward his SUV. Silently, I followed. Once we were seated and he had the SUV turned on, he said, “I’m guessing Chet’s pissed with you?” At my silence, he continued, “Don’t worry. I’m on Malik’s shit list, too. He actually punched me in my gut, shoved me out of our room, and slammed the door in my face.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Gonna have a nasty bruise later.”
Yeah, well, I’d shouted at Chet, something I’d never done before. Something I’d always vowed I never would. He hated being scolded, and I’d lost my shit on him over something so dumb. He’d been expressing his feelings and his worries, and I’d shoved them to the side because I was being my overprotective, jackass self as usual. Now, he was holed up in another man’s fucking room in an attempt to avoid me.
I felt like my skin was two goddamn sizes too small, but I didn’t let any of that show. Chet was safe, and for now, that was all I needed to focus on. Once the president of the SDMC was dealt with, I could come back home and grovel to my man. Once the threat to his life was neutralized, I could begin earning his trust back.
“You don’t talk for shit, do you? I see you talk to Chet a good bit, but you’re a cold mother fucker to the rest of us.” Rurik hummed. “I like it. Less chance of you saying something to piss me off.”
That earned him a snort. He flashed me a grin before focusing back on the road. “I’m going to use context clues and say your pissy mood is because of your man. Let’s take care of this mother fucker, and then, we’ll stop by his favorite food spot, grab him food, and after, we’ll stop by a store so you can grab him a couple of things he may like. It’ll soften him up.”
A bowl of shrimp pho, a bag of skittles, and a teddy bear would be right up Chet’s alley. And while he didn’t like anyone else knowing he enjoyed softer things, I knew Rurik would never say a word. The Russian man might like running his mouth, but when it came to the important things, he could be trusted.
“And what do you plan to do for Malik?” I asked gruffly, curious even if I didn’t want to be.
Rurik’s lips twisted into a devilish smirk. “Chain him to the bed and fuck him stupid.”
A small grin quirked at my lips. Yeah, that sounded right up their alley.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Rurik growled as we stepped into the SDMC’s clubhouse. We’d double-checked everyone would be asleep before we’d infiltrated the building, but low and behold, someone was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. He had one ankle resting on his knee, and he was slowly drumming the fingers of his free hand on the armrest, looking like he wasn’t the slightest bit alarmed that the enemy had just infiltrated his home.
“Hello to you, too,” the man drawled, lifting his chin to look up at us. “Rurik, right? You’re Malik’s husband. Barged into that bar when he and I were having a drink and dragged him out like a dog.”
Rurik stayed silent, but the way he cocked his head to the side just the tiniest bit sent alarm bells ringing in my head. Whoever this man was, he was treading on very thin ice with Rurik by mentioning Malik. Rurik was a possessive son of a bitch, even worse than me. “Malik called me and warned me you were coming.”
Malik did fucking what?
“What do you want, Kaleen?” Rurik asked calmly, seeming unbothered by that bit of information. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Despite his relaxed demeanor, I knew he could put a bullet between Kaleen’s eyes before Kaleen was even aware of him moving. Rurik had not become the second-in-command of the Washington chapter of the Russian Bratva just because he was close to the Pakhan. He’d gotten that position because he was a calculating monster.
“He told me your plan.” Kaleen set his beer down, then stood. “I offered my assistance on one condition, and he assured me you’d give it to me.”