Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“All right. What the fuck’s goin’ on?” the DAMC president asked him.
“Had an appointment with Lyric today—”
“You gettin’ another piece?”
Rage ignored that because that was the least important shit right now. “And she was gone when I got there.”
“Okay?”
“She’s always there durin’ shop hours.”
Zeke shrugged. “Maybe she went to get food or somethin’.”
Rage clawed back his irritation. He wanted to punch the fuck out of someone and Zeke was the only one within fist range.
Rage flipped open the laptop’s lid and pulled up the camera footage. He turned the computer so Zeke could see it, then clicked the play button. When it got to the masked kidnappers, Rage jammed his finger against the screen. “Look at this!”
Zeke’s head jerked back and went from unconcerned to wired in the blink of an eye. “What the fuck! Where were the rest of her employees and why the fuck didn’t anyone let us know?”
Rage shook his head. “No fuckin’ clue. Only saw that idiot Carl when I fuckin’ got there and that dumb fuck didn’t know shit.”
“Why the fuck would they take Lyric?” Zeke asked, still staring at the laptop.
“Who the fuck would take her?” Their eyes met. “Only two motherfuckers it could be. The Russos or the Twisted Souls.”
There better not be a third option. Those two were enough.
As the footage kept playing, Zeke leaned in closer. “Wait a fuckin’ minute. That a rental van parked at the front door?”
“Looks like it. Three of those motherfuckers put a bag over her head just like what happened to Kyra and put her in that van.”
It was pretty clear from the footage that there weren’t only three kidnappers. The passenger van had been packed with people. None of this made any fucking sense.
“For fuck’s sake!” Zeke growled. “Can you get a fuckin’ plate? Maybe we can have Vi run it.”
“Can try to zoom in, but it’s pretty hard to make out.”
As Rage tried to get a better look, Nix came jogging down the stairs, glancing at his cell phone. When he spotted them at the bar, he beelined over. “What’s goin’ on? Everyone’s phone’s blowin’ up. Sounds like a fuckin’ Amber Alert up there.”
Good. That was the damn point.
“Know where your sister’s at?” Zeke asked him before Rage could.
Nix’s mouth twisted. “No, ain’t her keeper.”
“The fuck you ain’t!” Rage yelled, digging his fingers into the edge of the bar so he wouldn’t lash out at his club brother.
Nix’s head jerked back. “Just tell me what the fuck’s happenin’.”
“Tryin’ to figure that out,” Zeke answered.
Rage did a quick summary. “Lyric was taken from the shop, a pillow case was pulled over her head, and she was put into a rental van by some masked fuckers.”
Nix’s mouth dropped open. “The Mafia?”
“Not sure yet,” Zeke answered.
“Look at this shit!” Rage jammed his finger into the screen again and showed Lyric’s brother as Chaos joined them.
“What the fuck? Can you zoom in to get the plate?” Nix asked.
“The van’s got a large graphic on the side. Could call the rental company,” Chaos suggested.
“That’s a huge, nationwide company. It’ll take too much fuckin’ time to call all of ‘em just in the Pittsburgh area.” Rage growled in frustration.
He was trying not to lose his shit, but it was a losing battle.
“There. I can make out the plate.” Chaos turned to Zeke. “Maybe Vi can run it to narrow it down. She needs to know what the fuck’s goin’ on, anyway.”
More of his brothers were coming down the steps, in through the back door, and filing in from The Iron Horse.
With a shake of his head, Zeke threw his phone on the bar top. “She ain’t answerin’.”
Rage pulled his cell phone out and tried to call Vi since she might be ignoring Zeke’s calls on purpose. It went right to her goddamn voicemail. “Where you at, woman? Got a situation.” He then sent a group text to T-Bone, Ghost and Grim: Where’s Vi?
He got a response from T-Bone within seconds. Said she had something to do.
Rage asked, She say what?
No, was the only response he got.
Ghost’s text popped up in the group next. No idea where she is.
Grim’s text: Something up?
Rage quickly texted back: Some fuckers took Lyric. Head to Church.
Three 10-4s came in rapid fire.
Next to him, Zeke said, “Tried Indie. She ain’t answerin’, either.”
What the actual fuck?
Rage turned to Chaos next. “Try your sister.”
“Just did. Bri ain’t answerin’, either. Her phone must be off; goin’ right to voicemail.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This was not good. None of this was fucking good. How were all the women out of reach at once?
“Where’s Chill?” he asked Zeke.
“Guessin’ where he should be: at the pawn shop.”
Rage called Chill next and put the phone on speaker.
“Yo, brother,” Chill answered.
“Where’s Bri?”
“Dunno. She ain’t here.”
“How ‘bout Lexi or Avery?”
“They ain’t here either. Short-handed as fuck here and why I ain’t headin’ over to Church like Zeke wanted.”