Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Where are we?” LuLu asks, finally noticing the scenery around her.
“My home.”
From my vantage point, I can see a Ford flatbed truck and an SUV parked in front of the small farmhouse. Chickens walk freely around the yard near the house, pecking the grass.
“Who lives here now?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, feeling sheepish.
“What are we going to do?”
Again, I don’t know.
What was I thinking? That I’d roll up to this house and ask them to let me come inside while I reminisced about my childhood? That’s delusional.
And yet…
“I say we introduce ourselves,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
This is stupid.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “I haven’t ever seen a chicken up close before. Do they bite?”
I chuckle, relieved at the levity of her question. “Well, they don’t have teeth, so no. They’re most likely more afraid of you. It’s the turkeys you have to watch out for. They’re mean as hell.”
She scans the yard, looking for one. If there’s a turkey, it’ll make itself known eventually.
“You’ll protect me?” she asks, voice small.
Though she’s not my flesh and blood, I feel responsible for her. There’s a love that’s been wired into my brain for her. Even if it was against my will, it still exists.
“With my life,” I assure her.
We exit the vehicle and a warm wind that smells of pollen and dust blasts us. The scent is so familiar, my chest aches. I can almost smell my mom’s kitchen—the air lingering with bananas, nutmeg, and cinnamon from her latest baking treat.
I get the odd sense that we’re being watched. This was a bad idea. We’re most likely freaking out the new homeowners by showing up on their remote property.
The last thing I want is to get shot.
“Maybe we should go find a hotel—”
The rumbling of engines cuts off my words. There are a lot of them. From the sound of it, a group of motorcycles are headed this way. I turn toward the noise and squint. As predicted, several burly men on bikes haul ass toward us.
Will they pass?
Or…
They slow to a stop and turn down the driveway. I yank LuLu to my side, a protective arm around her, as they circle us. The cacophony of loud-ass engine revving makes me want to cover my ears.
Why are they surrounding us?
What the hell do they want?
I get a sick, oily feeling in my gut. These men aren’t like the ones I run with in my circle. They’re all bearded, insanely ripped with muscles, and covered in tattoos. The thing that sticks out the most is they’re all wearing similar leather vests.
A man with an X scarred into his face snarls at me with pure hatred.
Another man passes, wearing a creepy but oddly beautiful grin on his face. On his second pass around, he smacks me in the back of my head with something hard and metal.
Everything turns black.
I wake, smelling something metallic. Blood? I’m unable to see anything and I quickly realize I’ve been blindfolded.
Am I back at the torture lab?
What will he do to me next?
If he starts blasting the whistling music, I think my brain may actually explode this time. I can’t take that shit.
No music.
Someone hocks a loogie and spits. Another person coughs, deep and rattled from years of smoking. Whoever is making these sounds, they’re not from the doctor or his nurse.
Slowly, the events of earlier return. Me and LuLu went to my old home and were about to introduce ourselves to the owners when the motorcycle gang arrived out of nowhere.
“LuLu,” I croak out, voice brittle and dry.
“He’s awake,” a voice states.
Footsteps approach me and then someone rips off my blindfold. A massive man towers over me, gripping the blindfold in his hand. He’s so close, I can smell his cologne. Oddly enough, this biker trash wears the same brand I do. That shit isn’t cheap.
“There a reason why you rolled up to my ex-wife’s house tonight?” the man demands. “Were you planning on taking her like you took that teenage girl?”
I frown and tilt my head to look up at him. The back of my skull throbs with pain from where I’d been hit. “What? No, man. We were just visiting.”
The man snorts. “You visit people you know, you piece of shit, not strangers. You were there to cause harm. Unfortunately for you, she has me on speed dial. You failed, asswipe.”
Confused, all I can do is squint, trying to make out his features. It’s dark aside from what looks like a fire burning from behind him. My clothes are soaked through with sweat, which leads me to believe we’re outside.
“Your interrogation skills need work,” another man states as he comes to stand beside him. It’s the man with the X on his face. His vest says Prez. “Step aside, Copper.”
The other guy—Copper—crosses his beefy arms over his chest. It’s clear he doesn’t like being told what to do, but he relents, stepping back. “Krista doesn’t know him, Koyn. He was up to something shady as fuck.”