Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Well, good morning. You look,” Ralston scans me up and down, “unwell.”
I ignore the greeting. “What do you want?” I snap. “Obviously you’ve never heard of knocking.”
He walks over casually, looking around, then puts both hands on my kitchen counter and leans in. The other guy follows, standing a deliberate two feet behind Ralston and crossing his arms, glaring at me.
“I hear you got a call from your brother.”
How the hell does he know who my brother is?
Who the fuck is this man?
My expression must give my confusion away.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Ruger and I go way back.”
What is happening?
I try to say something, but my mouth is dry and my brain is running on fumes. Ralston takes a thin, battered envelope from the waistband of his jeans and tosses it onto the counter. It skids and stops right in front of me, but I’m too scared to reach out and take it.
“You’re going to help us,” he says, casually. “Or the next call you get will be the prison informing you of Ruger’s death.”
My skin prickles as I look up at him.
“I don’t even fucking know you.”
“You don’t have to. I know you, well more specifically, I knew Harper, and she was helping us until...well...she wasn’t. Now, you’re going to finish what she started.”
What the hell is he talking about?
“Go on,” he nods towards the envelope before I can even ask a single question.
I reach for it, trying not to show this goddamned asshole how scared I am. Inside is one picture. It’s of my brother, his face bloodied and beaten, so badly I can barely recognize him. I clamp my teeth together so hard my jaw pops. I look up at Ralston. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, plenty.”
I want to punch him.
“I don’t even know what you’re fucking talking about. I don’t know what Harper was doing, or why. I’m only here to clean this place up and sell it.”
“Yeah, see, that’s the problem. We can’t let you do that until we are done with what Harper started. There is still too much invested here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I yell, frustration and fear rising in my throat.
“Everything you need to know is in here.”
The man behind him hands a large envelope over, and Ralston tosses it at me.
“I’ll give you a few days to figure it all out, then we’ll be back. Oh, and Callie, don’t try and get any smart ideas. One call, Ruger is dead. If your little biker friend tries anything, Ruger is dead. Either way, you have no choice but to help me if you want to see your brother alive again. Anyway, have a wonderful day.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
A tear rolls down my cheek as I stare at the photo of Ruger, my heart breaking.
Then, I take the large envelope and open it.
None of it makes any sense.
How does this relate to Harper?
What the hell is going on?
Why did Knox keep all of this from me? He didn’t say a word when I mentioned Ralston a few days ago.
I guess one thing is for certain, I have no choice but to find out.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT KNOX is hiding from me, but one thing is for sure, I’m about to find out. I’m not going to sit back and wait while he is keeping secrets about my cousin, secrets that could change everything. Whatever Harper was doing, it was dangerous.
Getting into my car, I drive to the clubhouse, a rage fueling in my belly. Has he been lying to me this entire time? Has he been just the same as the men coming to my door, demanding things, only he has hidden behind a mask? I don’t know what to think, but to assume he didn’t know what Harper was doing would be stupid on so many levels.
I’m halfway to the clubhouse before the speedometer even hits sixty, and the second I pull up, I don’t bother locking the car or checking my own appearance. I stomp toward the double row of Harleys out front, and then weave through them, storming inside like a woman on a mission.
I go barreling into the main room, which is packed as always. I spot Sable behind the bar polishing glasses, Nia at one of the high tables reading a book, and three, maybe four unfamiliar faces scattered around. I don’t look at any of them—I’m on a mission. Knox. Only him.
Nia looks up, raises her hand to speak, but doesn’t get a word in.
I barrel past two guys in matching black vests, one of them making a lewd noise as I go.
I ignore him.
“Where is Knox?” I demand to one of the unfamiliar faces.
He has the audacity to grin. I shoot a glare so deathly it only makes him laugh. “Down the hall, second door. Wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”