Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
A crack. Did I get the bastard’s nose? I don’t get to see, because he punches me in the stomach, and I tense my whole body to form a barrier of muscle and protect my organs.
“I’m going to break your legs, you fucking creep!”
The warning is a distraction, because his next punch is aimed at my face. I cover it with my arm, but the sheer force in Domino’s fist means a world of pain both in my arm and head. I’m dizzy, and I writhe like an eel under him, but the fucker is heavy. Still, I need him off me or he’ll pulverize me, so I slam my knuckles into his side in a series of ferocious punches.
“Help! Get your hands off him!” Angel yells, and next thing I see is his face behind Domino’s as he climbs the brute like a bloodthirsty gremlin. The slender arms wrap around Domino’s thick neck, and he pulls, showing so many teeth they gleam in the sparse light coming from beyond the narrow passage between trucks.
A low gurgle leaves Domino’s throat, and he uncovers his flank, reaching to the limbs around his neck. I jab at the vulnerable flesh, then punch Domino’s jaw from below, shutting his ugly muzzle with a sharp clack. He manages to toss Angel off him, and I see red when my boy rolls over the empty can lying in the grass.
“The fuck’s going on?” someone yells. Road’s voice? Blood pumps in my veins like oil set on fire. I can’t remember when I was last this filled with wrath.
I scramble from under Domino, grabbing the neckline of his T-shirt, and it rips.
“You’re gonna pay for this you fucking fag!” Domino yells as his punch manages to reach my ear, but I just laugh, because Road is in fact the one who arrived to deal with this clusterfuck first, and when homophobia rears its ugly head, he’s giddy to cut it off.
My ear is still ringing, so I don’t hear what Road is yelling, but he’s on Domino like a dog that’s found its favorite chew toy. Boot on chest, he has the bastard ready for butchering.
“I’m real fucking sensitive to that word, so if you throw it in my face, you might end up with no teeth.”
Prophet appears at the mouth of the passage, then more bodies pour in, crowding the space. Angel’s still prone on the ground, panting, and I reach for him when someone’s boot stomps uncomfortably close to his head. I pull him away in time, because a heartbeat later, an exchange of punches and kicks turns the narrow space into a war zone. My heart quivers when I see the red sheen of blood on his lips and chin, but then guys from both clubs are pouring in, some trading insults, others attempting to cool everyone’s tempers.
The big blue eyes focus on me in the dark, and Angel gently reaches to my face. “Oh no… your nose.”
I am aware of the pain in my face, but I’m disassociated from it in favor of making sure no one dares pull Angel into the mayhem.
“Just go back to our bonfire, baby,” I say and urge him back behind the line of our guys, but Prophet stops me.
“The fuck’s happened here? Jesus Christ, Creep. Go put some ice on your face, that’s an order. I’ll handle the Butchers.”
I hesitate but nod when Angel grabs my hand and pulls. “Thanks,” I mumble and we walk off.
His warm form is tucked under my arm, and he’s pushing at me as if he believes I need his support to keep walking, which is… kinda cute. The area around our bonfire is weirdly empty, and since I can’t see a single guy, I’m assuming the non-members who came with us to the rally have either joined the fight or are watching it from the sidelines. It’s only women here, and they give a collective gasp at the sight of us.
Luce, Yeti’s little sister, shoots up from her camping chair and nudges us to the bench, as if she suspects we might not find our way without help. We probably look like shit.
“What happened?” she asks as Gilly approaches with a bottle of water and some paper towels. It’s only now that I can give any thought to the coppery flavor on my tongue or the sticky sensation on my face, but Angel still takes precedence, and I cup his face. His lip is split, and the side of his face is reddened from the slap he’d gotten from Domino, but he appears whole.
He’s avoiding my eyes when he speaks. “This guy just dragged me between the trucks and Creep came to help me.”
“Domino,” is all I need to say for both women to groan.
“Oh my God! That fuck has some serious anger management issues,” Luce says and pulls me toward a bucket of ice as Gilly hands Angel the bottle and towels.