Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Where are these boys? They should have been here, kicking my captors’ asses ages ago.
Sure, we’ve all been lying low since the cartel attack outside Black Velvet a few weeks ago, but this is just ridiculous. The cops ruled it cartel business, a drug deal gone wrong that somehow ended up outside my bar. Marcus and Dean were let off with a warning after insisting they were just doing their job and acting in self-defense, which was confirmed by the girls inside the bar who were closing up at the time.
As for me and the boys, our names were never mentioned, apart from when Marcus and Dean explained that I had already clocked out for the night and gone home. The city-wide curfew was scrapped after that. They held the DeLuca family responsible for all the murders, and just like that, life went right back to normal, and it’s never been better.
Except for right now. Though to be fair, I have no one to blame except for myself. I don’t know what I was thinking when I let myself get into this situation. Maybe I should give the boys a little warning before I do something like this again next time, but when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t resist. Besides, it’s not as though I couldn’t get myself out of here with nothing more than my wit, but I want to give the boys a chance to have their precious little egos stroked. And maybe something else if they’re lucky.
Hunter would likely just roll his eyes at this whole situation, but Maddox . . . shit. He’ll be coming in his pants. This is like Christmas morning to him, and because of that, I have to see this through.
If only this chair wasn’t so uncomfortable.
The rope tying me down is mediocre at best, and more than scratchy against my wrists. Not to mention, the three men standing guard outside the door have done nothing but discuss sports for the past hour with the intellectual depth of soggy cardboard.
It’s wonderful. If they don’t shoot me soon, I might have to do it myself just to escape their conversation. Don’t get me wrong, they break it up every now and then and come in to hit me with the usual threats and smack me around a bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle, and it’s nothing they won’t die for either.
I let out a heavy sigh, loud enough to catch the guards’ attention. When the door opens, one of them marches in, gun in hand, and his narrow eyes are fixed on me. “What?”
“Do you have any hobbies? You know, apart from getting hard over football?”
His face scrunches, and I peer past him to the warehouse beyond his shoulder, groaning when I hear no signs of gunshots, splintering wood, or Maddox-shaped disasters. “Huh?”
I roll my eyes and relax back into my chair. “Never mind.”
Another twenty minutes pass, and my need to wait it out starts to fade, because if the shoe was on the other foot and one of the boys were in my position, I’d already be busting down the door.
I’m rapidly losing patience, and you bet the boys are going to hear about this.
The guards continue their conversation, and that’s when I realize they’re not even discussing real football. It’s fantasy football. And that right there is the perfect excuse to call it quits.
I adjust my hands behind my back, and within seconds, the itchy rope hits the ground with a soft thud, but it’s loud enough to gain the guards’ attention. The moment their sharp stares shoot toward me, I spring from the hard chair, more than ready to bust my ass out of here, but not before I get payback for the times these assholes put their hands on me.
The guards crowd around me in the cramped room, but they don’t make a move. It’s clear that they don’t have the authority to do a damn thing.
“How . . . how did you do that?” one of them stutters.
I scoff.
“Easy. I’ve had that knot undone for over an hour. Just waiting for the right time.”
“So, you could have just gotten up at any time?” another asks, looking dumbfounded.
“Uhh . . . yeah.”
Complete silence.
The first stuttering guy gapes at me. “Then why didn’t you?”
I shrug, not prepared to tell them that I was waiting for my two heroes to come along and save me so we could fuck in the bloodshed we left behind. “I was simply overwhelmed by your fantasy football teams. It really does it for me, if you know what I mean.”
Their expressions darken, and I roll my neck and shoulders, preparing for what I can only assume is going to be an easy fight. After all, I can’t say I’ve ever had guards pause to ask questions before, but there’s always a first for everything.