Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“Who left it?” Hugo demands.
“Didn’t recognize him.” The kid stands next to me.
“Open it.”
The kid, maybe fifteen, rips open the envelope. He pulls out a piece of paper and reads silently, his face falling before he stammers out the words:
“To…to Weston,
Do what Lucas Morrow says, and the contents of the locker is yours.
He has the combination.
-Manas Doran.”
And he tips the envelope upside down and catches a copper plate. I pry it out of his grip and examine it, seeing that numbers have been sanded off.
Manas Doran. The story Quinn told me. How does he know what’s happening right now?
And what combination am I supposed to know? And what locker?
Then, it hits me. The numbers on Quinn’s back. Two-eight-eight-four. Oh, fuck.
I scan the room behind the tables, seeing all the numbers are in the one thousands. It’s not one of these lockers. Maybe a storage unit?
I start to back away, leaving the room.
“Get back here,” Hugo shouts and then orders his men, “Grab him! We’ll fucking get it out of you.”
They don’t budge, and I realize they’re waiting for Farrow’s orders.
“It’s not about the money, Hugo,” I tell him. “No one here will go against them.”
No one here will go against the Doran brothers. I don’t know if it’s fear or respect, but their history is a central part of Weston’s identity.
I look to Farrow as I turn around to leave. “Clean house.” I nod once. “You have an hour.”
Quinn
“It’s been too long,” Kade says. “I don’t like this.”
Everyone’s eyes are pinned to the firehouse.
I stand a few feet away from them, my hands in front of me as I remind myself to breathe.
If he gets himself killed…
Tears well in my eyes, and I can’t even imagine how he’s going to come out of this in one piece. Is Farrow in there? Would he back Lucas up? God, please be okay.
I stare at the door, waiting for any shadow to pass by the glass block windows. Any commotion. Or a bellow or a gunshot.
I lock my jaw, anger making the heat rise on my cheeks. If he still thinks he doesn’t need his family at his back, then what do I care? He hasn’t changed. Still just as stubborn and irresponsible and—
Squeezing my eyes shut, I blow out a quiet breath, reeling myself in. He’s going to be okay. He has to be.
And just as I open my eyes, Lucas emerges from the firehouse on his own two legs—alive. I suck in a breath, holding back a sob.
Fuck, thank you, God.
With one hand around Tommy’s upper arm, he marches her out, glancing behind him and keeping his eyes peeled. He strides across the street as she pries herself out of his hold and charges away. I shift on my feet, and he must see the look on my face because he wraps his arms around me as he buries his face in my neck.
I squeeze him. Fire courses down my arms, and I can’t unball my fists, but I’m enjoying hugging him too much to hit him.
Tucking me under his arm, he walks us to the others, Dylan, Aro, Kade, and Hunter crowding around Hawke.
“What happened?” Kade demands.
“It’s Farrow’s.” Lucas nods. “I gave the firehouse to Farrow. We’ll have to wait and see if Hugo abides.”
“No one even got hit?” Kade gripes.
Well, there’s still time, moron. I can’t imagine Lucas or Farrow can take anything without some force.
I look up at Lucas. “Are we in danger here?”
He places his fingers under my chin. “We stay together for now.”
But where? We’d be safest at my parents’ or Madoc’s, but that might mean alerting them to the trouble.
“Why did you give it to Farrow?”
Glancing at Aro, I see her brow strained as she glowers.
He simply shakes his head. “Because the community relies on it. We need an infrastructure in place before we take away any means they have to support themselves.”
But she presses, “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was a gamble.”
Definitely.
For Lucas’s sake, the ideal thing to do would be to end it, but he’s probably right. Transition to phasing it out would be less detrimental to the people who rely on it for income. If it dissolved abruptly, the most vulnerable would suffer.
“One step at a time,” he tells her.
But the worried look on Aro’s face remains.
Lucas leads us down the curb to our cars. “Did you guys see someone outside the club, dropping off an envelope?” he asks, unlocking the doors of the Mustang.
Hawke replies, “A man handed the doorman something and left.”
“Didn’t see his face,” Dylan adds. “Why?”
Lucas opens my car door for me. “Let’s go,” he tells everyone, ignoring the question. “We need to check something out.”
I climb in as everyone scatters to their cars, and Lucas starts the engine, pulling away. Tommy is gone, and I twist my neck, searching the street for her. If they know she helped us, she might not be safe, either.