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Prologue
He’d been planning on what to say since the shit hit the fan. Hell, shit hit the fan eight times over all at once. There was a good chance he’d be dead in the next minute or so.
The detective no longer wanted to meet up at the cabin. This time, they were deeper in the woods. Hidden. Way off the map. Off the radar. Use whatever fucking cliché you want to use.
Point being—a gun could go off and nobody would hear a thing.
He knew his body could be tossed over a cliff or just left to rot on the forest floor. Nobody would know.
The club would know… and then what?
“Christ,” he whispered to himself.
He heard the call of an engine in the distance. He told himself to grab a gun. Grab a knife. Get something just in case this goes bad. How to explain it to the club…?
“Easy,” he whispered. “Tell them he was working me as much as I was working him. That I lied to save the club. I killed him for the club.”
By the time the detective showed up, climbed out of a rusted pickup truck, and walked right up to him… confidence flowed.
Then the detective punched him in the stomach. It wasn’t the hardest punch in the world. He knew he could not swing back as the detective hit him between the shoulder blades, sending him down to his knees.
“Fuck,” he growled.
“Fight back, you pussy,” the detective said.
“No,” he said. “I’m not going to do that.”
“That’s right. That’s my rat right there.”
He looked up at the detective. “I’m not a rat.”
“Your use is getting less by the day now. You fucked it up. You fucked it all up.”
“Nothing is fucked up,” he said. “Just delayed. That’s all. Everything is still in place.”
“Now you’re just begging me.”
“I’m not fucking begging!”
“You should!”
His jaw tightened. “I’m still here. I’m still doing what I said. Things are a mess inside the club.”
“Vulnerable,” the detective said. “Need to keep it going.”
“That’s the plan. That’s what we talked about all along.”
“We haven’t talked about a fucking thing,” the detective said. “I should have Cyrus’s balls in my hand right now, but I don’t. That little cunt with Linc should be dead. She’s not.”
“So what now? Are you going to kill me? Are you going to tell everyone I’ve turned on the club? What next?”
The detective then pulled a gun out of nowhere and placed it against the outlaw rat’s forehead.
The legendary saga of Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West continues.
Chapter One
Got Your Tongue
