Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
From what information I’ve been able to gather, Trystin doesn’t have much to live for. He’s a part time drug dealer with a rap sheet longer than the great wall of China. He tried his hand at growing marijuana in his earlier years, and after a stint in jail, he’s back causing havoc on the street.
As for his roommates, I’ve got no fucking idea. But assuming they’re anything like their friend, taking care of them won’t be an issue.
“Three entrances,” I tell them, getting in the zone and treating this like any other mission we take on. “Front door, side entrance to the east, and internal door through the garage. Kitchen and living in the front, three bedrooms down the hall.”
“And the rotties?” Ace asks, nervousness in his tone. He’d never admit it, but the big fucker is terrified of dogs, and for good reason, but that doesn’t mean that Diesel and I haven’t gone out of our way to fuck with him because of it. For two years straight, I had him believing that I was signing him up for the K-9 program. Truth be told, he’d probably benefit from it, but that’s not a fear that needs to be tackled tonight.
I nod toward the side gate, and the boys lean around me to see the three dogs, happily watching us. “They’re handled,” I tell Ace.
“The fuck? How?”
“I did my homework,” I explain. “I bought them each a turkey sub and gave them head scratchies. We’re best friends now. They won’t be a problem.”
Ace gapes at me. “You wasted three turkey subs?”
“Don’t worry. If you’re a good boy, there’s a turkey sub in my truck for you too.”
Ace grins, and I roll my eyes. They say a way to a man’s heart is through his dick, but when it comes to Ace, if you detour past his stomach on the way to his dick, he’ll be loyal until the end of time.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
The three of us make our way toward the house, and without a word, Diesel slinks away into the darkness, skipping over the broken chain-link fence and heading around to the side entrance.
I stop by the dogs, giving them another scratch and confirming they’re not going to attempt to tear us to shreds the second shit goes down, then I sail straight up to the front door. Ace taps my shoulder to let me know he’s right behind me, and I almost grin. We don’t exactly need our formal training tonight, but old habits die hard.
With Ace on my six, I slam my boot straight through the front door. The lock breaks instantly, the wood splintering into hundreds of pieces, and as we step through the open doorway, I hear Diesel breaking in through the side.
The house turns into chaos immediately.
Trystin is sitting on the couch, watching porn on the main TV with his hand down his pants, madly jerking off, and the moment we storm into his home, he scrambles off the couch, having no fucking idea where to look or where to run.
Another guy races in from one of the bedrooms with a girl on his heels, while some other asshole just stands in the open refrigerator, a slice of pizza in his hand, looking as though this is the last thing he wants to be dealing with right now.
We stand by all the exits, each of us looking like an impenetrable wild storm that’s come to burn the house to the ground. As the girl squeals in fear, Diesel just looks at her and gives one simple command, his deep tone not daring to invite question. “Leave.”
She slips out behind him through the splintered side door without a word, disappearing into the night. The remaining three men band together as though they have strength in numbers, and the way they attempt to size us up is almost comical. I weigh more in muscle than the three of these scrawny assholes put together.
“I . . . I don’t want no part of this,” Pizza Guy says, but the fresh bruises on his knuckles suggest otherwise. “Take what you want and fuck off.”
I laugh, striding through the home and finding Harper’s keys and bag left abandoned on the kitchen counter. I don’t stop until the boys and I are evenly spaced between the three men, leaving no escape, and fuck, it already feels good.
“We’re not here to steal from you,” I say as though these assholes aren’t already shitting their pants. “We’re here to even the score.”
Trystin glances around, his gaze shooting between the doors, and seeing no escape, he dives for the kitchen, scrambling toward the knife block by the fridge. I roll my eyes and step toward him, and just as he reaches for one, I slam my fist down over his hand, listening to the sweet sound of his bones snapping against the counter.