Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Her tears soaked into my shirt, her quiet sobs tearing into my chest. She was so exhausted and still fuzzy from the drugs that she passed out. Carefully, I lifted her into my arms, shielding her from any further harm.
Behind me, Tripp was still bitching. When I glanced back at him, it was clear from the look in his eyes that this was his way of keeping it together. “You punched me.”
“You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
“He was actively reaching for a weapon,” he repeated, clearly exasperated.
“You should’ve let him finish.”
“That’s not how law enforcement works.”
I glared at him as I stood, still holding Aubrey close. “You’re not law enforcement right now.”
That actually shut him up for about three seconds, then he pointed at me. “You’ve got issues.”
I rolled my eyes and moved toward the door. “You’re bleeding.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“I’m speaking the truth. You got fucking shot.”
He lifted a shoulder. “You punched a federal agent.”
“And you lied to a fucking motorcycle club. She’s the only reason you’re still breathing. ”
The glare he sent me could’ve melted steel, but I carried Aubrey out without another word.
By the time we reached the yard, the operation was winding down. Bodies were being collected. Weapons secured. Evidence that needed disappearing was already gone.
Tripp grumbled as he dragged Ronnie’s corpse by the ankles across the dirt toward one of the vans where several brothers were already loading bodies. Blood darkened his shirt, but the stubborn bastard wouldn’t shut his mouth, muttering complaints about me being a violent asshole as he wrestled the corpse into place. I ignored him, carrying Aubrey toward the waiting SUVs, her weight precious in my arms.
Tripp eventually climbed painfully into the passenger seat, holding a towel pressed tightly against his bleeding shoulder.
In the back seat, I whispered apologies and promises into Aubrey’s hair. “I should’ve told you sooner. I love you, Aubrey. So damn much.”
My voice cracked on the confession, free at least. Her trembling eased slightly, and she sank deeper into my embrace, making me wonder if she heard my words, but she didn’t stir again.
Her brother twisted awkwardly, checking on Aubrey over the seat back, his eyes alert despite the pain. For a charged moment, our gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between us. It wasn’t friendship or forgiveness for the betrayals that still stung beneath the surface. Not yet. But a recognition born of sacrifice and shared love for the woman curled safely against my chest.
He gave me a brief, grim nod, and I returned it, acknowledging the tenuous bond forged in blood and desperation. I had a feeling that someday we’d find trust again, maybe even something like brotherhood. But for now, Aubrey was safe, alive, warm, and real in my arms, and that was enough.
16
AUBREY
Iwoke up slowly, my head feeling heavy and my body sore. The room was quiet and dimly lit, with a faint antiseptic smell in the air. For a moment, I was disoriented, blinking up at the white ceiling as I tried to remember where I was.
Then it all came rushing back. I sat up too fast, wincing at the ache in my muscles, and looked around. I was alone in what looked like a medical exam room. But I had no idea where I was.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stood on shaky legs and made my way to the door. I cracked it open carefully and heard low male voices coming from down the hallway, immediately recognizing Canyon’s deep timbre.
I slipped out of the room and followed the sound on bare feet, my pulse racing faster with every step. The voices grew louder as I approached another door, slightly ajar.
“Bullet’s out. I got it cleaned and stitched up nicely. You’ll need to stay here tonight for observation, though. I want to monitor for infection or any complications.”
Bullet?
Without thinking, I pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, freezing at the sight of my brother on a hospital bed, shirtless, with a fresh bandage wrapped around his side.
Canyon stood near the bed, looking tense. Three other men were in the room with them. One wore a white lab coat that hung open, revealing a Redline Kings cut underneath and a stethoscope around his neck. The other two were big, intimidating bikers I didn’t recognize.
My emotions swung between relief at seeing them and the lingering pain from everything Tripp had told me on the phone.
“You got shot?” I cried out, my voice cracking with disbelief.
All five men turned to look at me at once. Canyon’s eyes widened when he saw me. Tripp looked momentarily stunned before trying to school his expression.
“It’s nothing, Aubrey,” my brother assured, attempting to downplay his injury. “Just a graze. I’m fine.”
I ignored him and turned to the man in the lab coat. “Are you actually a doctor?”