Ouija : Kings Wolves MC Book 2 (King's Wolves MC) by Emmaleigh Loader

Author:Emmaleigh Loader [Loader, Emmaleigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-25T23:00:00+00:00

We sit around the table in church, the one made of the bones of our enemies. I stare at it, my mind wondering what bones I’ll pull from the man who threatens my sapphire. The one’s I’ll add. The others crowd in, taking their seats. I bounce my leg, unsettled. It’s been weeks and we are still no closer to finding this bastard. It was quiet for about two weeks after we found Maisy’s head in the main room of the clubhouse. My skin still crawls when I think of the resemblance it bears to Ava. The fact that this sick fuck had taken Maisy just to dye her hair, makes me sick. Then two days ago more notes started showing up. We would find them taped to our bikes. Billowing in the wind stuck to the windows of the clubhouse. It's infuriating, wondering how he's doing it. We've been in lockdown. And when Savage calls for a lockdown, that shit is serious. You can't take a piss without one of us knowing about it. We live together, bumping shoulders under the same roof. Yet this fucker finds a way to make it onto club grounds and it makes me feel a rage I've never before experienced. I feel like I'm clawing and slashing at my own flesh, just to get the anxiety and rage free. Ava's been sullen. She hates it as much as the rest of us do. But I know she hates it more, I can feel her pulling away because she fears for us. I've never felt so helpless. Savage has been an even bigger asshole than usual. Someone's invading his territory and the thought of his wife and baby coming to harm has messed with his head just as much as it's messed with mine. And after weeks with no leads, we finally may have one. Josh was waiting for any news his FBI contacts could have had, but it's taken a while. Apparently this scumbag knows how to hide. He lays a few files out over the table, pushing them up towards myself and Savage. I take one and Prez takes the other before Josh continues handing out a copy of the same file to the others. Flipping it open, I scan the pages hastily, like a word or phrase will jump out at me and instantly hold all the answers to my questions. It isn’t words that pop out at me first though, it’s photos. Image after image of women who look just like my sapphire, dead. Discovered in various graveyards. In various forms of massacre. Some can’t be recognised as all that is left is faceless beings made only from tendons. Cavities open and innards removed. Limbs missing, or sewed back onto the wrong parts of the body. Some real fucking Frankenstein shit.

“Jesus, fuck,” Shorty breathes, in a rough and quite tone. The images are awful. Some women have been butchered, some have been flayed, others have been tortured, stabbed, mutilated, strangled, you name it and this bastard has done it.

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