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)
Chaos huffed. “Or she does and is keepin’ that shit to herself so she can handle it the way she wants.”
“She better fuckin’ not,” Rage growled.
Chaos shrugged. “You know how fuckin’ stubborn these women are.”
“It’s in the goddamn blood,” Zeke said with a shake of his head.
“It’d be stupid for them to try to handle those fucks on their own,” Rage reiterated.
“Maybe they’ll finally fuckin’ realize how stupid it was to start their own club,” Zeke suggested.
Chaos snorted. “Good luck with that shit. Givin’ them too much credit. Wonder how those motherfuckers even know the women’s so-called club’s tied to us.”
“Goddamn women love to flap their traps,” Rage answered.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the crowd part again as Lyric, her brother, Phoenix, and father, Crow, exited into the waiting room next. The men’s expressions were unreadable.
Good fucking thing he was taller than most of the others so he could quickly scan her from where he stood. But before he could finish, his feet were already moving. He needed to see the damage done up close.
Though, with every stride over to them, his jaw got tighter and his blood began to boil.
Crow’s dark eyes tracked him as he approached.
“Brother,” Rage responded when the OG jerked his chin up at him in greeting. He immediately turned his attention to Lyric. Her long, black hair wasn’t contained in its normal French braid. Instead, it was a mess and hanging loosely down her back.
“Ash,” she greeted softly, her dark eyes turned up to him.
At six-foot-three and two-hundred and thirty pounds, Rage dwarfed her.
His eyes skimmed over her, taking in the bandages and an arm sling.
“What’s the damage?”
“Some road rash and a sprained shoulder and wrist,” Nix answered for his sister before she could.
“Good thing it’s my left arm and not my right. I wouldn’t be able to tattoo for a bit.”
She probably didn’t realize she used both hands to sling ink. He knew that because she’d done the majority of his tattoos.
And he had a shitload of them. So, yeah, he knew very well about her using both hands on him.
“Guessin’ you were wearin’ a helmet.”
Crow shifted sharply next to her.
“Yes. It’s ruined.”
Being a skilled artist like her father, she had custom spray painted her helmet. In fact, once everyone saw it—club brothers and sisters alike—a lot of them asked her to do theirs, if they wore one. Unlike the women, the majority of his brothers did not.
“Better than smashin’ your melon.”
Crow grunted in agreement. Even so, the man was keeping the fear of losing his daughter pretty damn well contained.
The thought of her cracking open her head and possibly dying due to those motherfucking Souls made the anger bubbling deep in his gut to start heading toward the surface.
Rage really needed to take a fucking page from Lyric’s father on how to keep cool in the middle of a shit storm. And being so much like him, Lyric was wise beyond her years, despite only being twenty-three.
Rage repeated to Crow what Lexi had revealed. “Weren’t wearin’ cuts.”
Crow nodded, catching the meaning of those three words immediately. “Means we can’t assume it’s the Souls.”
“Sure as fuck can,” Rage growled. “No other goddamn club’s on our fuckin’ radar right now.”
When a hand landed on his arm, his first instinct was to shake it off. But he fought the urge and allowed his gaze to follow the arm to the person it belonged to instead, despite already knowing because her touch always seemed to douse any fire roaring in the pit of his gut.
It was no surprise Crow caught that whole exchange. He was the most observant man Rage knew. Only, Crow didn’t say shit.
He didn’t have to.
Rage managed to soften his voice enough to not sound like a raging asshole when he asked Lyric, “Where’s your sled?”
He was tempted to smooth out her disheveled hair for her, but that would come back to bite him in the ass since they were surrounded by his brothers. And under Lyric’s father and brother’s watchful eyes.
Rage had never liked the taste of a shit sandwich and today was no fucking exception.
“I don’t know. But I’m assuming it’s totaled.”
“Hook will tow it from wherever it is back to the shop and see if it is.” He met Nix’s gaze. “Figure it the fuck out and let Hook know.”
Nix nodded. “On it.” He left his family’s side to go talk to Lexi and Indie.
With a frown, Crow glanced at a text on his phone. “Your mom’s almost here.”
“There’s no point in her coming now. We can head home.”
“Already told her that.”
Rage waded in. “Need to ride in a fuckin’ cage, Lyric, not on the back of a goddamn sled right now. Got only one good arm to hang on.”
“Dad’s got a sissy bar.”
“Don’t matter, he’s right,” Crow said softly, squeezing her good shoulder and dislodging her grip on Rage. Most likely on purpose. The OG was a pro at being subtle but effective. “Your mom can take you home.”