Excerpt
Twirling my little brother’s keys around my finger, I
whistled as I walked out of the clubhouse toward his truck. Warden was already
sitting in the front passenger seat, meaning I was going to hear Raider bitch
all the way to his woman’s house and then to Raven’s.
Raider was bigger than Warden. Longer. Meaner. Warden had
his moments, but mostly he was a whiny little bitch. Still, he was grabbing
things for some of the other females currently camped out in the main room of
the clubhouse, which meant I didn’t have to. I could put up with the bitching to
get out of that shit.
Opening the driver’s door, I climbed in and sat, my fingers
drumming on the steering wheel as I waited impatiently.
The front door of the clubhouse opened, Raider’s large frame
coming through the opening, and I started the engine…
It stalled before catching, and my gaze locked with one of
my best friends’. We both knew what was going to happen next. My heart dropped
into my stomach, and I started counting down the seconds in my head.
Fuck this shit.
I opened the door, jumping out just as the boom shook the
world. The force of the blast sent me flying, white-hot flames searing my back
as my front connected with two cars parked by the fence, and I fell between
them. My head bounced off the asphalt, and I groaned in agony seconds before blackness
consumed me…
I cracked my eyes open as I felt myself floating. The smell
of gas hit my nose at the same time the godawful pain made itself known. There
wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt, but the worst was coming from
my back. I could feel the blisters, the pain coming off them so intense, I was
surprised I wasn’t in shock from the agony.
Maybe I am.
I was surrounded by darkness, but my eyes slowly adjusted,
and I realized the floating sensation I was feeling wasn’t just from all the
pain. I was in the trunk of a car which was moving at a speed that made me
think we were on the interstate.
Fuck, I hurt.
I twisted, trying to get my big body into a better position
that didn’t hurt as much. Bad idea. The worst I’d had in a while. Just
breathing hurt; why the fuck did I think moving would make it any better? It
was so intense, I saw stars, my stomach heaving from the agony. I managed to
turn my head enough that I didn’t choke on my own vomit.
Knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those eggs.
The puke made me cough, which had me gasping for my next
breath from the torture my body was sustaining. It was too much, and I blacked
out.
A sharp slap across my face had my eyes snapping open. “Fuck
off,” I growled.
Two men stood over me. One of them I knew well; the other
I’d only seen from a distance. I was lying on something cold, but the coolness
did nothing to relieve the burning on my back. My hands were strapped down, as
were my ankles, the way the ties cut into my flesh telling me they’d gotten rid
of my boots and socks. My shirt and cut were gone too, but at least I still had
my jeans on.
“You gonna arrest me, Sheriff?” I smarted off, pretending
like I wasn’t in the worst pain of my entire life. I was good at pretending. It
got me into trouble. A lot. But trouble was fun. Mostly. This, not so much.
“Got better plans for you than that, Reid,” Bates said with
a smugness on his bulldog-like face. “Fontana paid me good money for your
worthless ass. Lucky me, I found you stuffed between two cars while your pussy
MC brothers were bawling their eyes out thinking you’d burned up in that truck
with the other fucker.”
Warden.
Fuck.
A different kind of pain tore through me, but I swallowed it
down. Now wasn’t the time to mourn my MC brother. I currently had other
problems screaming for my attention.
The other man’s face pushed closer to mine, his breath heavy
on the garlic. I blinked my eyes at him, trying to focus through the haze of
bad breath. “Back the fuck up, and get yourself a mint. Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
Fontana punched me in the stomach as he straightened, his
face pale with rage. The hit knocked what little breath I had out of my lungs,
making me wheeze and cough. The agony that was my back protested, and I had to
blink back the darkness attempting to flood over me for the third time.
“Reid here has a mouth on him,” Bates informed the Italian
seething over me. “Sometimes you have to shut him up before you can get the
answers you want.”
The chuckle that left me felt like it was going to kill me,
but I wouldn’t let these bastards see how weak I really was. “I’ll talk all you
want,” I assured him. “Whaddya wanna talk about, Bates? The way your momma was
sucking my dick last night? You want to talk about that? She’s got a mouth on
her, man. The way she gets on her knees and blows me…so damn good.”
Creswell Springs’s sheriff had ham hocks for fists, and they
both connected with my jaw, one after the other. I laughed, fighting the urge
to throw up as the action only made me want to scream in misery, and then spit
the blood that was filling my mouth at him. “Your momma hits harder than you,
fucking little bitch.”
Another punch to my jaw and I felt one of my molars break
off. I spat it out, and it landed on the floor at the sheriff’s feet with a
tiny ping.
Damn, I just got that tooth fixed too.
The last time it broke off was in the same fight where my
little brother broke his arm. Damn college kids thinking they could come into
Hannigans’ and play pool with the big boys. We showed them quick why the Reid
brothers were unbeatable. They’d gotten a few good punches in and fucked up
Matt’s arm before I took a pool stick to their heads.
Fontana was back in my face, his breath burning my nose
hairs. “I like that you’re a talker.” His voice was chilling, but it took a
hell of a lot more than him to make me shiver. “It shouldn’t be too hard to get
the information I want out of you.”
This guy was hilarious.
I might have been a fuckup at times. Running my mouth and
causing trouble was what I was known for. But this prick was never going to get
a single secret out of me about my MC brothers.
“Really wish you’d get that mint, man,” I grumbled. “And
maybe lay off the garlic sauce. You’re adding to the ozone problem. Don’t you
care about global warming?”
A muscle started to tick in Fontana’s jaw, and I found the
energy to smirk up at him.
The smirk turned into a grimace—the only thing I was willing
to give him to show any sign of discomfort—when he punched me in the side.
Something told me my liver was the least of my worries with
this guy.
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