Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“You good?” I put my hand on Ada’s shoulder and leaned down to speak to her quietly.
She looked up and gave me a tentative smile. “I’ll be better when this psycho is gone.” She took another sip of coffee.
The outside door swung open with enough force to bounce off the wall. A man I didn’t recognize strode in, his boots hitting the flooring like hammer blows. His overall presence screamed military. I was pretty sure this guy gave orders rather than taking them. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room, missing nothing.
“Cain,” Knuckles addressed the older man, then the man next to him. “Stunner.”
Cain. Gunnar’s father. The former president of Bones MC. The resemblance was there, but Cain wore his age like armor rather than a burden. I’d seen men in their prime less fit than this guy and I knew for a fact the man had to be in his seventies by now.
To Cain’s right, Stunner positioned himself to best defend Cain. Stunner had the same watchful gaze. He wore his hair long and his beard, though neatly kept, was long and full. Heavy muscles filled out Stunner’s clothing. The man’s intense stare would make anyone think twice about crossing him or the man he guarded.
Gunnar stepped forward, surprise and something like wariness crossing his face. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
Cain fixed his son with a look that could have chipped diamond. “Waiting for your call.” He kept his voice deceptively soft. No one could doubt Cain’s displeasure though. “Stunner tells me he got a call from you about Rat Man. Figured my invitation got lost in the fucking mail.”
The room went quiet. I glanced at Ada, who had set down her coffee and was watching the scene unfold with the look of someone who knows the train is about to be derailed and wants to look away, but can’t. I knew how she felt.
Gunnar shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “It just went down last night. Didn’t want to drag you into another club’s business when you’ve got your hands full with ExFil. Especially with Mom wanting you to retire and all.” Wrong thing to say. I saw it in the microsecond tightening of Cain’s jaw, the slight narrowing of his eyes. I also saw Gunnar wince. Yeah. Pup knew he’d stuck his foot in his mouth.
“Retire.” Cain practically spat the word. “You think I’m sitting in a fuckin’ rockin’ chair knittin’ fuckin’ sweaters? Is that what you think retirement looks like for men like me?”
Gunnar backpedaled. “That’s not what I meant. Just thought you might have shit going on at ExFil so you could keep Mom happy.” He was treading dangerous ground, and from his expression, he knew it.
“Uh-huh.” Cain nodded slowly. “Keeping your mother happy is nice. Know what else is nice? Not having my son dance around telling me he thinks I’m too old for a fight.”
“I never said --”
What happened next came so fast I almost missed it. One second Cain was standing there, looking like an aging but dangerous predator. The next, he moved with the fluid grace of a much younger man, sweeping Gunnar’s legs and following through with a hard shove to the chest that put his son flat on his back. The sound of Gunnar’s body hitting the floor echoed through the room with a loud thud.
Gunnar lay there, looking up at his father with shock, the wind knocked clean out of him.
“Too old, huh?” Cain looked down at his son, not even breathing hard. “Now, if you want to go one-on-one, I’ll make sure I give you a warning before I knock you on your ass.”
I blinked, reassessing everything I thought I knew about the old man.
Beside me, Knuckles started laughing, a deep belly laugh that built until he had to sit down on the nearest chair, slapping his knee as tears leaked from his eyes. “Goddamn,” he wheezed between bursts of laughter. “Your face, Gunnar. Should’ve seen your fucking face.”
Cain’s expression softened slightly. He extended a hand to his son to help Gunnar to his feet. Gunnar took the offer with a rueful smile and a grunt as he stood.
“Next time, just call me,” Cain said, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Save yourself the bruises.”
“Yes, sir,” Gunnar replied, rubbing his lower back with a chuckle.
Knuckles finally managed to control his laughter enough to stand, crossing the room to shake Cain’s hand. “Good to see you still got it, old man,” he said, genuine respect coloring his voice as he clasped Cain’s hand.
“Never came close to losing it,” Cain replied with a slight grin. “Just don’t advertise it much these days.” He looked around the room, his gaze landing on me, then Ada. “So. Rat Man’s back, and he’s playing with explosives. Tell me everything.”
Knuckles clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s get the full crew in here first.” Knuckles paused and gave Cain a look. “You know, Bohannon and Torpedo both agreed Kiss of Death was under my control. Nothing’s changed. This is still my club.”