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)
Some were clearly pissed, while others seemed more interested in the women passing by than anything their brother had to say. But the one standing at his side seemed the most invested. He took a long pull from his beer before asking, “You talked to Prez about this?”
“Hell yeah. I told him all about it, and he was even more pissed than I was,” the skinny dude answered. “He’s calling Rizz and some of the other chapters, and we’re gonna meet up and take care of these Fury assholes once and for all.”
“That’s good. We don’t need to wait on this.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking… We need to move now, while we got the upper hand. We gotta show them and everyone else that Coyotes bite the hardest.”
Hearing them talk about Fury was one thing.
Hearing them talk about taking them out was another.
Preacher. Creed. Grim.
A few others drifted through my mind as I stood there listening to these assholes talk about their plan to invade Little Rock. They might’ve been from another chapter, but these men were once my brothers. I’d shared beers with them, swapped stories with them, and even though I hadn’t spent a great deal of time with them, I knew they were good men.
Preacher was a man with a presence that filled a room without him having to say a damn word. As VP, Creed stood by his side, quieter but just as sharp, and he kept a tight watch, making sure nothing got by him. And Grim, the club’s enforcer, reminded me of myself. Fierce, loyal, and a spine of steel and a temper you didn’t want pointed in your direction.
They ran their chapter a lot like Stone and Ace had run ours. Straightforward, no bullshit, and fiercely protective of their own. You always knew where you stood with them. You knew the line between family and enemy, and you knew what would happen if someone crossed it.
Thinking about what that loudmouth kid had said about going after them had rage burrowing in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want trouble hitting the Little Rock boys, didn’t want any kind of fallout landing on men who’d never given me anything but respect, but wanting it didn’t stop the reality of what I’d just heard.
Trouble was headed to Little Rock, and I had to do something to stop it.
I could’ve just pulled out my phone, dialed Preacher’s number, and laid it all out. But that wasn’t how things like this were handled. I had to play it safe and make sure the Coyotes had no way of knowing that I’d overheard their conversation. I needed to deliver the information face-to-face. It was the only way to make sure the Coyotes kept thinking they had the upper hand.
The Coyote’s loudmouth finally wound down his bragging, the last of his bullshit. The asshole next to him clapped him on the shoulder and asked about the fights, wanting to know who was betting what and who was the first stepping into the ring.
And just like that, the whole damn group shifted gears, and their attention was drawn to the warehouse doors. I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there.
I eased off the wall, moving slow and steady, making sure to stay off anyone’s radar. Darkness fell around me as I slipped between cars and beat-up trucks, making it harder to see with each step. I caught sight of my bike and thought I was in the clear until I heard Hank call out, “Hey, Walker!”
Damn. Leave it to Hank to fuck up my grand escape.
I didn’t turn around. Hell, I didn’t even slow down. I just kept trucking it to my bike. I kicked my leg over the seat, thumbing the ignition, and my bike answered in a deep, familiar rumble that drowned out the cheers spilling from the warehouse. Hank yelled something else, maybe my name or maybe a curse, but I ignored him and rolled toward the dirt road that led me here.
Twenty minutes later, I was hitting the highway, and the wind was cutting through my flannel. I had a long haul ahead of me, but maybe, just maybe, I could help the Little Rock boys stop a war before it ever got started.
4
RAELYN
Mondays were rough. Not just for me, but for the boys, too. It always seemed that if something was going to go wrong, it would go wrong on a Monday. And it usually happened first thing. One of the boys would forget about a project that was due, or they’d wake up sick, or I’d have early duty that I’d forgotten all about and make us all late.
Today was no different.
I hadn’t slept well and was having one of my headaches, and Lucas was complaining of a stomachache. Thankfully, my dad was able to come to our rescue. He brought me one of my favorite coffees and offered to spend the day with Lucas.