Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Cameron.
The problem was that by the time my gaze made it to his face, he was on me, hand over my mouth, locked arm around my neck.
I had less than five seconds to get free.
And I knew how, dammit.
Until he did the one thing that would prevent me from using my moves.
He lifted up.
The second my feet left the ground, I knew I was screwed. At least for the moment.
I was pulled back outside.
The last thing I saw before the choke took me out was the prone body of Sully on the ground.
I was out cold before I could even see if he was still alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Perish
“Fallon just called,” Brooks said as I paced through the common area for a change of scenery after pacing the basement and then my room for a while.
“Yeah? They finally got something?”
Brooks was diplomatic enough not to comment on the borderline disrespect.
“They rounded up one guy they believe was with you and still with Cameron. They’re two minutes out.”
“Who? What’s his—”
He was cut off by the thunderclap of steps on the stairs coming up from the basement.
The basement.
Where Virgin had been up in the glass room.
Men like him, they didn’t run unless shit got bad. Really fucking bad.
My heart flew into my throat.
Because we didn’t panic like that unless… unless one of our women or kids was in danger.
“What is it?” Brooks asked, stiffening.
“Gracie’s gone,” Virgin said, eyes wide.
“What?” I snarled past the lump in my throat.
“She was somewhere inside the party. But she’s gone. They found her clipboard. But Sully was knocked out. And she’s gone. Likely into the woods around the venue.”
My first instinct was to run, to get on my bike, to fly there, to hunt through the woods myself and find her, bring her home.
The more rational side of me knew that the others had the woods covered. If she was there, they’d find her.
But she was probably not there.
Cameron had her.
And he wasn’t going to let her go.
I heard the car fly into the lot, Fallon likely having gotten the call as well.
I didn’t think.
Didn’t try to weigh through my options.
I flew out the door, beelining for the SUV.
“Perish!” Fallon’s voice called, a warning.
I didn’t give a fuck.
I ripped open the trunk, reached inside, and pulled out a man I’d once known as a skinny little kid named Davy.
I saw the recognition in his face before the fear overtook him as I grabbed him by the shirt and dragged his ass toward the clubhouse.
He fought.
But even putting on thirty pounds of muscle didn’t make him any kind of threat to me. Not when I was pissed. Not when I was fucking terrified.
As soon as we got to the wall of the clubhouse, I dropped his shirt, grabbed his throat, and hauled him to his feet. His skull cracked against the brick, and there was a second where the light flickered in his eyes, making me worry I’d slammed him too hard.
“Perish, I—”
“Where is he?” I roared, cutting him off.
“Perish, rein it the fuck in,” Fallon shouted.
There was nothing that could reason with my rage right then.
“Where the fuck is he?” I snarled, cocking back and swinging.
Davy’s head whipped to the side as a pained grunt escaped him.
“I’ll break every mother fucking bone in your body. Where the fuck is he?”
Davy’s head lolled forward, refusing to make eye contact.
My hand shifted, grabbing him higher on his neck, forcing his face up to look at me.
“Don’t gotta worry about him being pissed at you,” I warned. “Because I’m going to bathe in his fucking blood for this. Where. Is. He?”
“You’re gonna choke him out,” Fallon said, reaching to grab my arm.
I did something then that I would probably pay for later. But I didn’t give a damn. Not if it meant saving Gracie.
I shoved Fallon with my free arm.
I was vaguely aware of him crashing back on the ground with a little curse. Of men stepping closer to me.
“No. No,” Fallon said, making them fall back. “He’s too pissed. He’ll tear through all of us if we get in his way.”
And that was why Fallon was president and not me. He could be logical when emotions were running high.
“Where would he take her?” I snapped, pulling Davy forward, then smacking his head back into the wall again.
“Take who?”
All that came out of me to that was a growl.
Then my hand tightened, lifted.
Up, up, up.
Not low enough to press on his carotid artery, to stop blood flow to the brain, to let him pass out.
Oh, no.
This was a slow, deliberate, painful way to choke someone out.
The movies, they got this shit wrong.
It wasn’t fast.
It was slow.
Agonizing.
Terrifying.
Davy grabbed at my hands.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish.
His eyes went bloodshot.
And I released.
Just long enough for him to suck in a sharp, greedy breath.