Becoming Indigo (Damaged Goods Series Book 1) by Meridith Gray

Author:Meridith Gray [Gray, Meridith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Castle Publishing, LLC
Published: 2024-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

Priest

Waking up tied to a chair in your own workspace, punished by your own club, wasn’t an experience I’d recommend. I groaned as I rolled my neck. I crossed the Rubicon the moment I took her, and I knew it. I wasn’t sorry, and I’d do it again. The look on Bones’s face when he pistol-whipped me spoke volumes, not to mention the fury and disappointment on Duke’s…but I was right, I knew I was. I had to try to find out what she’d been hiding, and this was the only way. They’d forgive me eventually when they realized that I did what I had to do for the Crows. Right?

I sat for what seemed like hours, though. I had no way to know how much time passed. There were no windows in the confessional to let in daylight, but I didn’t feel too uncomfortably thirsty, so I knew I couldn’t have been down here for longer than a day. As the club’s interrogator, I knew all the tricks they could play on me, so I settled back as comfortably as I could and waited to hear what punishment I’d earned for my disobedience.

More time had passed, hours or minutes I wasn’t sure, before I heard people approaching the cellar doors leading to the confessional. The doors creaked open, spilling in the caramel-colored evening light. So, it was probably the evening after they’d found me with Indigo, less than a day after I’d taken her. I knew they wouldn’t leave me down here much longer. Duke was a hard-ass and a good prez, but I was his son and only living child. Did banking on that make me an entitled prick? Yes, yes, it did. Oh well. I’d do anything to protect my family and take whatever punishment Duke doled out. It was worth it.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Duke or Bones who sauntered down the stairs into our club’s torture room. It was Cricket, and he wasn’t alone.

“Be careful, twat! That’s it, gently.” Imperious as ever in his Americanized British accent, Cricket came backing down the steps, leading Prospect and Tank down while they wrestled with boxes of electronic equipment. Cricket pulled a chair over from my workspace and set a laptop he’d carried down. I scoffed because of course, Cricket carried a laptop while Prospect and Tank trudged down the stairs loaded up with boxes of wires and cables, a modem and router, among other various tech gadgets I couldn’t name. Other than the basic skills needed to work my computer and phone, I’d never had any interest in electronics. Cricket was the tech-savvyest among my brothers, and I usually was content to leave him to it. Now, I was sore and dehydrated and not in the mood for his annoying brand of bullshit.

“What’s all this shit for?” My question fell on deaf ears as Prospect and Tank set Cricket’s equipment down and trudged back up the stairs. Cricket ignored me as he rifled through the boxes to find whatever he sought.

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