Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
I'd promised Ghost I'd stay put today. Not in those exact words, but the implication hung between us at breakfast when he mentioned the club had plans to deal with the Copperheads. The way he looked at me, that mix of concern and warning, made it clear he expected me to keep my ass out of trouble while they handled things.
So here I sat, in a park full of normal people leading normal lives, instead of doing something useful. Like finding Rocky and ripping his balls off with my bare hands.
"You better be worth the worry," I muttered, thinking of Ghost's face this morning. The lines around his eyes deepened more each day. He hadn't said much after our talk the other night, but I caught him watching me, like he expected me to shatter into a million pieces any second. Truth be told, I didn’t think I was far from it.
I grabbed a lock of my hair and twisted it around my finger. If Ghost knew I couldn't stop thinking about Rocky, he'd lose his mind. Worse, he might look at me with pity, and that I couldn't fucking stand. Ghost took me in when I had nothing, gave me everything, became the father my biological one never came close to being. I owed him more than stupid, reckless fixation on a man who'd lied to my face while fucking me senseless.
A shadow fell across me.
"Mind if I sit?"
My entire being froze. That voice. Deep and rough like gravel, with an edge that still made my skin tingle despite everything. I didn't need to look up to know who stood there, but I did anyway, tilting my head back to meet Rocky's dark eyes.
"Fuck off," I said, the words coming out automatically, but lacking the venom I intended.
He didn't move. Just stood there, looking down at me with that infuriating intensity that made me feel like I existed in a spotlight focused only on me.
"Wren, please. Five minutes."
"I already gave you five minutes the other night. You used them to shovel bullshit."
His jaw tightened. The stubble along it looked darker than I remembered, like he hadn't bothered shaving. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes. Good. I hoped he suffered.
"One minute, then," he pressed. "I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter."
I should have gotten up and walked away. Should have pulled out my phone and called Ghost right then and there. Instead, I shrugged and looked away from him, not telling him to fuck off again like I should have. Pathetic.
Rocky sat, careful to leave space between us. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes scanning the playground like he expected snipers behind the fucking monkey bars.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, keeping my voice low and cold. "This is Bound in Blood territory."
"I know. Ironically, that makes it safer."
I snorted. "Not for you, it doesn't."
He turned to look at me, his face serious. "Wren, I need you to listen. I don't have much time."
"You’re right. Clock's ticking, asshole."
"I didn't lie about everything." He ran a hand through his hair, the muscles in his forearm flexing beneath a sleeve of tattoos. "My name really is Silvester Russo. People call me Rocky. I really do ride a Harley. I really do work on bikes. And what happened between us—"
"Save it," I cut him off. "I don't need to hear how your dick accidentally fell into my pussy while you just happened to be spying for the Copperheads."
His eyes darkened. "That's not—"
"Then what? Please, enlighten me."
Rocky glanced around again, then lowered his voice even more. "I'm working with Vittorio Luca and his brothers. I’ve been with them since I was little more than a kid. Since they were little more than kids. The Copperheads think I'm one of them, but I'm gathering information about their trafficking operation. That phone call you overheard? That shipment they're bringing in? It's people, Wren. Young girls. I'm trying to stop it."
I stared at him, searching his face for signs he lied. His eyes held steady on mine, not flinching, not shifting away. Either he told the truth or he ranked among the best fucking liars I'd ever met.
"Vittorio Luca?" I repeated. "Bloody Jack's friend?" I deliberately used Jack’s road name to let Rocky know I meant business.
"Yes. Ask him if you don't believe me."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "So you expect me to believe you're what—some kind of undercover hero?"
"Not a hero. Just a man trying to right some wrongs."
"And fucking me? Where did that fit into your noble mission?"
Pain flashed across his face. "That shouldn't have happened."
The words hit like a slap. "Wow. Thanks for clearing that up."
"No, I mean—" He reached for my hand, but I jerked away. "I mean I never intended to drag you into this mess. Vittorio suggested I make friends with you as an emergency backup if things went sideways. You’d never be in danger and he wouldn’t have to involve Bound in Blood unless it was life or death. Vittorio said you would be the one person both Ghost and Bloody Jack might listen to. They’d come for me if you told them to.” He winced and shook his head slightly, as if he were truly in pain. “What happened between us..." His voice dropped. "That crossed a line I never meant to cross."