Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Nodding his head, I can see that he doesn’t like my answers, but he’s going to fucking listen to me.
“Alright, I’ll head over to the club now and see if Hershey has any contacts we can use too,” he says before standing his bike up.
“I’m gonna call Whitey. Gonna need another Church for this shit. Need him to get the club in order and see if we can pull the lifers into the protection,” I say.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure Darlene talks to the girls about safety too,” Grem says.
“Make sure they’re doubled up if they go anywhere,” I say as he starts his bike up.
“Got it,” Grem says before sticking his knuckles out at me. “Thanks, Pres.”
“Got ya, brother,” I say and knock mine against his.
That’s as much of a hug as he’ll ever get out of my ass.
Compartmentalization is a fucked up thing. And it’s another thing I learned about when I was in high school.
School made me see this counselor about grieving and shit when my mom died from her fucking heroin overdose. He tried to get me to talk about why I wouldn’t touch people. Why I didn’t weep and wail, and why I wasn’t moping around.
About all I got out of the whole thing was, it’s okay to cry (I didn’t), and that what I was doin’ was compartmentalizing shit. Instead of lettin’ shit overwhelm me and dealin’ with it properly, I was puttin’ it away in neat little cubby holes. Filing away all kinds of shit I didn’t want to deal with for later.
Most of it is probably still filed up there in my brain collecting dust.
So, me pushing all emotions aside with Snowbird’s death is pretty much the easiest way to figure out how to respond to it. It might seem cold and callous, but that’s part of the gig.
I can’t fucking rush off doing stupid shit.
Instant violence will only solve so much right now. We don’t have enough firepower to hit the Scorpions hard enough to make them leave Louisville. But we can’t let this hit go unpaid either. We gotta make sure they know they fucked up bad.
We hit one of theirs cause he was caught slingin’ around our little town. Shit don’t float like that, they know it too.
But torturing a sweetbutt?
Fuck that. Especially with what they did to her. I can feel my mind wanting to slip into a rage of emotions, but I gotta shut it down.
Stupid thing is, I’m wonderin’ if the Bastards have become complacent in our little town of La Grange outside the big city Louisville. Have we become the fat cats and let our asses get tender?
Fuck, I hope not.
But we should’ve never been in the fucking position of not havin’ enough firepower like we are right now. We ain’t gotta be fucking doomsday preppers, but shit, we’re fucking sittin’ ducks if a real war comes down the pipe at us.
This deal we got with Anchorage is good for everyone that’s involved, but it’d be even better if the guns and ammo were here yesterday.
Fuck. Gonna have to call up Church tonight or tomorrow, depending on what shit we can get from Grem looking for guns.
My stomach starts to warm the closer I get to home, though. I’m feeling warm and pissed the fuck off. I don’t like how Allie and I left things, even if it was on somewhat better terms because she finally stopped screaming at me.
Allie’s home and she brought my kid with her. A kid I never knew existed. I can’t be mad that he’s here, just pissed I’ve missed all the shit a new dad gets to do. Missed his first words and first steps. Missed bein’ up all night with the cryin’ and changin’ his diapers.
I’ve missed it all, and it fucking crushes me inside when I can’t put my feelings neatly away.
I want to rage and scream at Allie. I want her to quit fuckin’ messin’ around with all this bullshit of not rememberin’ me.
But how do I do that?
Is it really fucking possible she lost all memory of the time we had together? Is that even a fucking thing? Amnesia? Don’t that shit only happen on soap operas and shit? It’d sure as fuck explain stuff, but damn.
In bed she sure as fuck acts like the old Allie Cat I knew, and that pisses me the fuck off even more.
Did she fuck Mikhail?
Did she fuck him like she fucks me?
I can’t believe that she did. I felt something last night that I bet even she didn’t know she had in her. She fucked like it had been years since she felt something so real. That, and I had to stretch the fuck out of her. If she’s been fucking some other dick, it was tiny as hell.
Bet she didn’t even get off half the time she was with soon-to-be-dead Mikhail.