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 looked up at him, squinting against the sunlight that haloed his broad shoulders. "Saturday night? What time?"
He frowned. "But you're not coming anywhere near that warehouse."
I shrugged, noncommittal. "Just wanted all the details. In case I need to send in the cavalry and all that shit."
His eyes narrowed, clearly not buying my casual tone. "Wren. Promise me you'll stay away."
"You're not really in a position to ask for promises, are you?"
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Fair point." He took a step back. "If you need to reach me, use the number I gave you. But only if it's an emergency."
“What time, Rocky.”
He hesitated and for several seconds I didn’t think he’d tell me. I saw the exact moment he gave in. “Midnight. But I mean it Wren,” he gave me a stern look. “Stay away. I do not want you there. Period.”
I shrugged. “Fine.”
I watched as he turned to leave, his back straight, shoulders set in a tense line. Something twisted in my gut, a complicated mix of anger, attraction, and uncertainty.
"Rocky," I called after him. He stopped, looking back over his shoulder. "If you're lying to me again, I'll help Ghost bury what's left of you after he's done."
The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I'd expect nothing less."
I watched him walk away, replaying our conversation in my mind. My lips still tingled from his kiss, my heart still raced from his proximity. Fuck. I'd played it cool, but inside, I felt anything but.
Two possibilities stretched before me. Either Rocky told the truth and he worked against the Copperheads, or he lied and used me yet again. Ghost wanted me to stay away from Rocky and anything to do with the Copperheads. But those girls... they were someone's daughters. Someone's sisters. Someone’s friends. If what Rocky said was true, they needed all the help they could get.
I pulled out my phone, hesitating before opening my contacts. Not Ghost, not yet. I needed to verify Rocky's story first. My finger hovered over Honey's name. She'd help me navigate this mess. But even as I thought it, I knew what I'd do.
I'd play along with Rocky's story. Let him think I believed him, maybe even that I softened toward him. I'd extract every piece of information I could. And if he told the truth, I'd help save those girls. If he lied, I'd make sure he paid.
Either way, I'd find out Saturday night. At that warehouse. At midnight.
I tucked my phone away, decision made. Ghost would kill me if he knew what I planned. But some risks were worth taking, even if they broke promises.
I stood, taking one last look at the playground where kids still played, oblivious to the darkness that lurked at the edges of their world. Somewhere in this city, girls not much older than them awaited a fate I couldn't ignore. Whatever game Rocky played, whatever his true motives, I'd use him just as he'd used me.
This time, I'd be the one calling the shots.
Chapter Twelve
Wren
Iknew I was screwed the second I walked through the compound's gate. Ghost stood by the entrance to the main building, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set in that particular way that meant someone was in deep shit. And judging by how those steel-gray eyes locked onto me like targeting lasers, that someone was definitely me. So much for slipping back unnoticed and pretending I'd been napping in my room all afternoon like a good little girl. Somehow, he knew. He always fucking knew. From the time I first came to live with him, Ghost always knew when I was doing something I shouldn’t. He knew when I lied to he knew when I did something he told me not to. I knew because he always had the same look on his face he had now.
"Office. Now." Ghost's voice cut through the air between us, sharp as a blade and just as dangerous.
I considered arguing, maybe throwing out some bullshit excuse about where I'd been, but the look on his face stopped me cold. When Ghost used that tone, even Bloody Jack sometimes took a step back. I nodded once and followed him through the main building, past curious stares from prospects and patched members alike. The walk to his office felt like a death march, each step taking me closer to the explosion I knew was coming.
Since the first day I’d met Ghost, I’d known he had my back. Always. No matter what. I got in trouble at school, he always took my side. At least to the rest of the world. Behind closed doors, he questioned me, grilled me, until he grew satisfied he had everything. And that’s where we were at now.
Ghost pushed open his office door and waited for me to enter first. I walked in with my chin up, defiance masking the guilt churning in my gut. The room smelled like leather, gun oil, and the faint trace of Ghost's favorite whiskey. Cluttered desk, wall of weapons, framed patches and photos from the club's history, I knew every inch of this space. It had been both sanctuary and execution chamber over the years, depending on what kind of trouble I'd found myself in.