Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Rusty mumbled something that Pat didn’t quite hear.
“Women, eh, we can’t live with them, and we can’t live without them.” Rusty laughed. “You see, this is why you should just stick with club women, because they are not complicated. They want to ride the dick, no commitment. Once you’re done, you can kick them out of your room, or have your pick of some fresh pussy.”
“And you wonder why this mystery woman snuck out on you.”
“I gave her a good night. I gave her a fucking incredible night,” Rusty said.
“And yet, she still snuck out on you. It sounds like you’re saying she did it because she regretted sleeping with you.”
Rusty glared at him. “You know, I think I preferred you when you were silent and glaring at shit. What are you glaring at now?”
Pat didn’t care for the insult. “I don’t get what is wrong with this car. It starts up fine, but we got the call to tow it. A mother and daughter were waiting in the cold to be picked up.”
Pat frowned. “There is nothing wrong with the car.”
Rusty frowned. “You sure? Maybe it is one of those diagnostic faults? You got to get the machine out and hook it up.”
Pat went to the machine and turned it over. “Listen.”
They were silent, and listened to the car.
Now Rusty was wearing a frown. “Well, shit, that sounds like a real sweet vehicle. Fresh. Like it has just recently been tuned up.”
Pat was about to open his mouth, but his senses kicked in. This developed in enemy territory, when anyone could make you a target.
He tensed up at the sound of the approaching car, then he grabbed Rusty a second before bullets started raining down upon them. Pushing Rusty to the ground, he heard that the guns didn’t stop. He had no choice but to move them to take cover behind the car, but it would not offer them much protection. They took cover inside the main reception, putting more of the building between them.
“Are you okay?” Pat asked, raising his voice to be heard over the bullets.
“Fucking bastards got me,” Rusty said, groaning.
Pat looked over to see Rusty had been hit in the stomach. He applied some pressure, pulling at the man’s overalls to get more fabric.
“Press down on it, do not let it bleed out. I’ve got to get to Bull’s office.”
He didn’t stop, going to Bull’s safe, typing in the code that all the club knew in case this ever happened.
Pat learned at a young age to fire both guns. When he was a boy, he loved watching cowboy movies and would spend days learning to draw both weapons because he thought it looked cool.
Aiming both guns, he stepped outside and began to shoot back. He knew he hit the main shooter, and that caused their attackers to panic, as they suddenly pressed their foot to the gas and took off. Pat continued to fire, taking out a tire, and he memorized the license plate, as he rushed back into the main building where Rusty was.
The other man had started to sweat.
“Are you okay?” Pat asked.
“Fuck, no, I’ve been shot.” Rusty groaned. “Fuck me, it has been a long time since I felt like this. This fucking hurts.”
Pat pulled out his cell phone, dialing Bull’s number. It took several rings to get Bull on the phone.
“I need a car and I need it now. Rusty’s been hit.” He gave a quick rundown. Before he ended the call, Bull said Grant was on his way.
“What the fuck do you think this is?” Rusty asked. “A new enemy? The fucking cartel?”
“The cartel,” Pat said. “For fucking sure this was a cartel hit. How are you holding up?”
“Like I’ve been fucking shot. Pieces of shit.” Rusty growled. “I don’t like this, Pat. They’re on our turf and we didn’t even fucking know it. Pieces of shit.” He kept saying the same insult over and over again.
It wasn’t long before Grant arrived, entering the garage. “I’m here.”
Pat grabbed Rusty, who groaned.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding?” Grant asked.
Pat went from zero to a hundred in his rage, and after he got Rusty into the back of the car, he took one look at Grant and threw a punch. He didn’t hold anything back. Grant went down to the ground with a thump.
“What the fuck was that for?”
He was tempted to hit him again, but Pat had a motto for club brothers. When they were down on the ground, he stopped. He only hit them when they were on their feet. Now, it was a completely different story as to whether or not they were even prepared to take a hit. It wasn’t up to him to teach them to have their own backs.
“Kidding? Seriously. You think I’d joke about this.”
“I was just saying. I didn’t fucking mean it. Don’t you say shit in the heat of the moment, to try and cut through the tension?”