Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
I’d made arrangements for everything to be brought to the front of the store. Who knew mall concierge was a thing? Might have something to do with the obscene amount of money I’d spent. I’d honestly expected the card to be declined at any point along the way, and had been gleefully looking forward to the explosion because there was no way Tonio wouldn’t get a notification when the card started loading up.
Instead of waiting for the guys to arrive, I tipped the concierge a hundred bucks to stay with my shit until a bunch of guys on motorcycles and a big-ass trailer for the bike pulled up. I’d moved Ranger’s bike to the curb and handed the concierge the keys, then headed back inside. I saw a leather store I wanted to do some inventory damage to before the guys dragged me back to the compound.
The store was in an out of the way corner of the mall because it was that kind of leather store. As I turned the corner to a darker area of the facility, a man stepped into my path, his face hidden beneath the hood of a dark sweatshirt. The dim light caught the gleam of a knife.
“I knew it was only a matter of time until you gave those big fuckers the slip.”
I stopped, tensing for a fight I hadn’t planned on. But then, I never did plan well. Which was my whole problem.
“You know who I am?” The man pushed his hood back, revealing a face twisted with rage. “My buddy Ray died yesterday. Hospital said his skull was fractured in that bar. Doctors said he might have lived if someone got him help sooner, but everyone was too busy with the other fight.” He stepped closer, the knife glinting in the fading light. “The fight you started, bitch.”
The name Ray meant nothing to me, but the accusation did. One of Jenkins’ crew must have died after the brawl at Throttle. I hadn’t even known how many men were involved in that fight, had only focused on the immediate threats. Someone had gotten hurt worse than I realized, and now his friend wanted revenge.
Living on my own since I was sixteen, the streets had taught me how to fight. I wasn’t going down without making this bastard bleed.
“Back off,” I warned, voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding my system. “I didn’t kill your friend.”
“You started the fight that got him killed. Same thing.”
“He started that fight. I haven’t started a fight at Throttle for at least a month.” That was the stupidest thing I could have said, but there it was. Something else I had a talent for was not keeping my mouth shut.
He lunged forward, knife slashing in a wide arc toward my face. I ducked under his arm and drove my elbow into his ribs, feeling a satisfying crack as I connected. He grunted but didn’t drop the knife. I spun away before he could recover, creating distance between us.
“Ray was just doing a job,” he snarled, circling me like a predator. “Looking to get paid, that’s all. Nothing personal until you and your boyfriend got involved.”
“Hunting women for money is plenty fucking personal,” I shot back, watching his movements for tells. The way he favored his right side told me where to hit next. “Especially when I’m the one being hunted!”
He came at me again, faster this time. I blocked his knife hand with my forearm, pain lancing up my arm as the blade sliced through my jacket and into skin. Warm blood trickled down my wrist, but I ignored it, driving my knee up between his legs with all the force I could muster.
He doubled over, gasping, and I seized the opportunity to slam my fist into his throat. Normal people might have gone down then, but this guy was running on pure hatred. Even as he choked and sputtered, he grabbed my ankle and yanked, sending me crashing to the floor.
My head bounced and stars exploded behind my eyes. I rolled instinctively, narrowly avoiding the knife as it hit the spot where my chest had been a moment before.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled for the exit. There were several people who’d stopped to either watch, film, or had phones to their ears. I hoped at least one person in the fucking place had the decency to call nine-one-one.
I sprinted out the door and across the road to the parking garage next to the mall. I made it to the second level before the guy caught me, diving for my legs to tackle me to the concrete. I kicked out, scrambling to my feet. I tasted blood where I’d bitten my tongue in the fall.
He charged me with a roar. I sidestepped at the last moment, grabbing his knife arm and using his momentum to slam him face first into the concrete wall. I heard a scream and people shouting but didn’t dare take my concentration off the bastard in front of me.