Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
I pick up my phone, a smile on my face.
That smile dies immediately when I read the message.
Douglas: Olivia, You’ve been whoring around with the Saint’s Outlaws. You bitch.
Get your ass to the garage now.
My heart freezes in my chest and my hands actually shake uncontrollably. My legs are so damned weak that I have to sit down on the bed. I can’t go to the garage. I know what will happen. Shit! If I ignore the text, then the bastard will just come here. He might even hurt Dad, and I can’t allow that.
Douglas: Don’t make me come get you. I’ll show you what our father looks like from the inside if you do.
Me: Can’t come. Dad’s sick.
I don’t have much hope that will work, but I try anyway.
Douglas: Bet he’s in better shape than this piece of shit.
I frown, not understanding what he means. Before I can ask, a picture of Bear pops up on my screen. He’s lying on the ground and there’s blood—too much blood—puddled around him. Panic hits me with so much force I gasp to try and breathe. My lungs burn.
Me: Coming. He better be alive when I get there!
I run out of my room with my phone clutched in my hand. I make it outside and call a neighbor. I explain I’ve had a family emergency, and I need them to watch over Dad. Luckily, they know where I keep the spare key. I hate I’m getting them out this late at night, but I can’t really do anything about it. Next, I call Blade. It goes immediately to voicemail.
“Blade, baby I need you to call me. I uh … Shit. Blade, bring the men from the club—the men. Shit. I need you. Bear needs you. It’s my brother … Blade … I …”
The phone beeps and clicks off. I try it again “Blade. There’s a garage in Townsend. Drifters. Bear’s been shot. Damn it, Blade! Why aren’t you picking up?!?!”
I start my car and peel out. Once I get close, I call the cops. Luckily, I have a friend on the force who understands exactly how bad my brother is.
“Detective Sutton, please,” I say when the operator picks up.
“Can I tell him who is calling?”
“Olivia Davis.”
“One moment please.”
While I’m waiting, I wonder if the operator can hear what a mess I am. I’m shaking so hard that I’m having trouble focusing on the road.
“Livy, what’s going on?”
“My brother. He sent me a picture of a friend of mine. He was lying down. God, Scott, he looked dead,” I explain, my voice cracking as the tears fall unchecked down my face. I need help. He’s at his garage in Townsend. Can you …”
“Olivia, do not go there. Let the cops handle this.”
“I have to. I … It’s Bear. I can’t leave him alone. I can’t.”
“He wouldn’t want you to do this, Olivia. You’re walking into a trap.”
“Just send the police, please?”
“Olivia.”
“I’m almost there. I called Blade but he’s not answering …”
“Olivia—”
My phone goes dead, and I let it fall down onto the floor mat. It only takes a few more minutes—at least that’s what it feels like. Honestly, I have no idea. Time feels like it’s not moving at all. I’m having trouble seeing because of my tears. I almost miss the turn off, so I slam on the brakes. My car fishtails, throwing gravel everywhere. I lose control of the wheel, and I crash into the front of the garage. My neck snaps hard and the pain radiates up into my head and down into my back. The airbag implodes and delivers another hit. I’m feeling woozy, but I manage to open the door and fall out.
“Bear!” I cry out.
I’m so dizzy that I can barely move. I try to hold my head up, instead I scream when someone grabs my hair and starts pulling me by it. I cry out and whoever it is stops and then they’re leaning over to look down at me.
“Shut up! You stupid bitch. Our party is just beginning,” Douglas laughs and then, before I can say anything else, his fist comes down and the world goes black.
22 BEAR
I look around the room and I’m feeling older than the fucking hills. We’re at the clubhouse in the room where we have church. Blade’s pacing by the head of the table, tapping his knuckles against the pine surface as Hangman flips through the plans for the spa. Viper’s leaning back, arms crossed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Ranger’s beside me, quiet, tapping his lighter on the table.
I try to focus on the discussion—layout, zoning, contractors—but my mind’s already wandering. Too many ghosts in my head lately. Too many words I’ve written down for the ones I loved—but locked away.
Then my phone buzzes. I glance down carefully.