Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) by Max Henry Page A

foot in for years?
    “Sully!” His tortured scream for help cuts through the air as I stop at the windows to get my bearing on where I am and how far it is to the fence from here. Can I do it? I have no choice but to try. This is it. If I screw this up, I’m dead. I’ve pushed the beast too many times and the punishment for this infraction isn’t something I’ll come back from.
    I’ve never made him this angry. Being caught with King was nothing compared to what I’ve done by coming in here.
    With my hands on my belly, I utter a few final words before I make my break for it. “This better be worth it, little one. You at least owe me a university degree for this.”
    My best estimate is two hundred yards if I beeline to the gate. I squint at the steel panel, realizing the damn thing is impenetrable. With it shut there’s no way out, no gaps I can edge through. I run my eye over the line of the fence looking for the weakness, the best chance I have to get over, under, or through. As I reach the corner, my stomach plummets. I don’t have a chance in hell of doing this—there’s a damn guard tower in the top corner with one clearly armed man scouring the perimeter.
    Will he shoot me though? The boss’s wife? As though hearing my question, the guard reaches for the radio clipped to his chest and speaks into it. He turns and locks his gaze directly on the end of the mansion I’m in. Damn it. I slink around the edge of the window frame to rest my back against the wall, temporarily defeated.
    The commotion continues at the end of the hall; Carlos barks orders, Madam Bitchface squeals and gasps where appropriate, and the low, lulling tones of Sully’s voice mingle in the spaces between.
    I’m trapped. Death faces me no matter which way I go. “I’m sorry,” I mumble into the room, apologizing to the unborn life inside me, and to the man I love who was so close to getting what he deserved—a family of his own. “I messed up big this time.”
     

TWELVE
    King
    “So . . .” Callum says as he rocks on his heels. “We’re startin’ a war.” He rolls back and forth to stretch out the unused muscles in his legs.
    “That what they decided?” I take the cigarette offered by Hooch and stare out across the back yard at the clubhouse.
    I’ve got a few hours to waste before I meet up with Sully and Elena, and spending them at home became a non-option when I found myself cycling from room to room, growing increasingly frustrated with the fact I couldn’t take her back there. Instead, I’ve spent the last two hours since getting in smoking and drinking with these two monkeys. Hooch vetoed his return to Fort Worth; he told his old man there wasn’t anything he needed to get back for, and opted instead to be the eyes and ears the southern brothers need on what’s decided at the mother chapter. Consequently, my lungs are filled with more tar than oxygen, but whatever keeps me from losing it completely, I guess.
    “War is what I heard. No official word from the man in charge, though.” Callum’s gaze drifts through the open door to where Apex sits on a stool at the bar. The frown on my friend’s face leaves him looking almost . . . conflicted. Is he seeing our president for what he is now, too?
    As though the old bastard can hear us talk from such a distance, Apex casts his gaze sideways and glares at the three of us. Hooch tips his chin, holding up the smoke he’s lit in a friendly acknowledgment.
    “The whole thing’s fucked. We’re being used by Carlos, and that fucker in there is lettin’ it happen.” I roll my eyes toward the bar, my back turned to Apex so he can’t see.
    “Used how?” Callum asks. “Other than this bullshit work he has us doin’.” He grimaces as he drops to his ass on the deck to take the weight off his bad leg.
    “Think about it.” I tap my ash to the ground. “Carlos whispered in your old man’s ear”—I point to Hooch—“and dangled the bait for us to take—the work