Page 124 of Root

Jack’s okay.

Then I turn from him, feeling all levels of traitor, and I focus on the once and future low-rent King.

He holds out his hand.

“I’m not stupid. You let Jack go and I’ll give you the book, and then when I know he’s safe, along with Rush—”

“Our little bitch is in heat,” King says.

The others laugh.

“When they’re both safe, I’ll give you the rest of the information on the Smith family, on Derek Finnegan, and where the body’s buried. But that book? The Smith info? That’s what you want.”

“And then what? You ride off into the sunset with Rhodes after that?”

“He’s useless. A fuck boy, a waste of space, nothing more.” The lies lacerate, but I push. “I have the key to the codes and more information. But you don’t get any of that until I know they’re fine.”

He shrugs. “You’ll have to stay with us. Earn your way.”

One of the men comes up, shoulders my brother out of the way, and grabs my tits. It takes everything in me not to stab the motherfucker.

“They’re real, gonna have some fun with these. Need a good titty fuck while someone pounds that ass?”

“Hey—” Jack’s cut off, and I hear the punch, the thump as he hits the floor.

“I’m okay with that. And with this,” I say. “Go, Jack.”

“Get rid of him.” King drips sarcasm as he gestures to the guy manhandling me. “As in, let him go.”

The guy sighs, twists a nipple viciously, and then escorts my brother toward the door. “You know the way fuck bucket.”

The rage burns jagged hot.

The moment the door shuts, King holds his hand once more out to me. “The book.”

On feet I order not to wobble, I cross to him. His nose has been broken more than once, and he’s older, mean, and the man who knows he’s in charge.

I pull the book out and hand it to him. He flips through it, then dumps it on the bar next to him as he withdraws his weapon.

“This, little girl, looks like a whole lot of bullshit.”

“I told you, they are codes. I spent weeks winning over the Wilder camp.”

He stands and comes to me, running the barrel along the side of my face and pressing it against my temple.

“Seems like fucking bullshit.”

“Would I still be here? I know the codes. I know a lot.”

“I’m thinking it might be better to kill you and take the Wilders out, starting with your Rush. I’ll let my men have fun with you first, of course.”

“Sorry to break up this fun little party,” says a voice behind me, “but are you offering my girl to your men? And did you mention me?”

I want to cry.

Rush.

Every single cell’s aching for him. Every single atom’s on full alert.

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