Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“I’d bet everything he’s a scout.”
Grim nodded, then took a step forward. “Easy, killer. We need to play this safe.”
“Fuck that. This asshole came into our territory, and…”
“You’ve got a hell of a crowd here, brother.” That stopped him in his tracks. “It’d be better to hold off until he tries to leave. We could follow him and see where he leads us.”
“Fuck that. I don’t need him to lead me anywhere,” he growled. “Once I get my hands on him, I’ll get him to tell us everything we need to know.”
I looked back at the guy, watching the way he moved the phone to record every angle of the Vault. This wasn’t just some stupid prospect sent in to get intel. This guy had done this shit before.
While he wasn’t crazy about the idea, Grim stayed put, but I could see his restraint waning every time the guy moved. We let him sit there a while longer, letting him think he was in the clear, and then he stood.
He didn’t rush. He picked up his beer and took one last sip before making his way toward the exit. That’s when we moved. We weren’t showy about it. We moved with purpose, blending in with the people coming and going, and as we drew closer, Grim motioned to Ghost, letting him know that we might need a hand.
By the time we made it outside, the guy was already cutting across the lot, but he didn’t make it far. Ghost came rushing in from the side and rammed into him like a damn freight train, tackling him to the ground.
Grim and I grabbed his arms, wrenching them behind him before he could stop us. He was a big dude, and he did his best to put up a fight. But he was no match for us. Grim grabbed a fistful of hoodie and hauled him to his feet like it was nothing.
“What the fuck, man. I didn’t do nothing,” the guy started, panic already bleeding into his voice.
Grim didn’t give him a chance to finish. He just swung open the back door of Ghost’s SUV and tossed him inside. Once he’d slammed the door, he looked to Ghost and ordered, “Take him to the workroom.”
Ghost nodded once, then climbed into the driver’s seat. As soon as he peeled out of the parking lot, Grim slowly turned his head toward me. I knew what he was going to ask even before he said, “You wanna come give me a hand? For old time’s sake?”
I glanced back at the road Ghost had just taken. I knew where he was taking him. I knew the rooms and what happened in them. Hell, I’d had a couple of my own back in Kansas. They were places where the truth didn’t come easy unless you forced it, where lines blurred, and the only thing that mattered was getting answers.
And I got them, by any means necessary.
Grim did the same. If this guy had something to say, he’d get it out of him. No doubt about it. But that time for me had come and gone. I’d put those days behind me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to step back into them. But the boys had been good to me, especially Preacher.
I owed it to him to do all I could to put an end to these Coyotes before any real trouble came sniffing at their door. “Yeah, I’ll do whatever you need.”
Grim put a call in to Preacher while I went back inside and let Seven know what was going on. He assured me that he had things handled there and that Grim and I should do what we needed to do.
Minutes later, we were on our bikes, speeding to the clubhouse. We whipped through the gate, and Grim didn’t say much on the way to the garage.
He had multiple rooms. I’d seen them when I’d gone to the workout room. They all had concrete floors with a drain in the center of the room, steel fixtures, and chains. They were built for function, not comfort. They were stocked with various tools and devices that Grim could use to extract information, and each had a two-way mirror, allowing Preacher and the brothers to monitor everything happening in the rooms.
Grim didn’t slow down until we reached the two-way glass. I stopped beside him and looked in. Ghost had already gotten our guest prepped for interrogation.
He was strung up from the ceiling with his wrists bound above his head and feet barely touching the ground. His hoodie and shirt were gone, and what was left didn’t leave much to question. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, and built like an ox.
And dude was covered in ink.
And right in the center of his chest was a black coyote with red eyes.