PA: Natalie Weston
Editing/Proofing: Marie Peyton-Editor, Rose Holub-Proofer,
Promoting: Amy Jones, Veronica Ines Garcia, Neringa Neringiukas,
BETAS/Early Readers: Tawyna Rae and Amanda Quills
Street Team: All the wonderful members of Wilder’s Women (You rock!)
Best Friend and biggest supporter: My mother (Love you to the moon and back.)
EXCERPT FROM LYNCH’S RULE: RUTHLESS SINNERS MC
LYNCH
It happened in an instant.
One minute I was sitting at the bar with Country and Widow, and the next, there was a loud blast and I felt an intense heat against my skin. Before I had a chance to react, my two-hundred-and-forty-pound ass was being hurled across the room like I was a fucking toothpick.
I landed on the floor with a hard thud, the impact nearly knocking me out cold. I wanted to get right back up and shake off this shit, but I struggled to overcome the thick haze that had fallen over me.
I could only lay there with my face against the cold concrete floor, my head pounding and every muscle in my body aching. Both ears were ringing, smoke filled my nose, and my lungs burned with every breath.
I knew something was very wrong and could feel the urgency growing inside, but I didn’t have it in me to move.
It felt like I’d fallen into a pit of fucking black tar, and I couldn’t break free no matter how hard I tried. Even after hearing movement next to me, I couldn’t budge and started to wonder if I was alive or dead.
Then someone’s hands nudged my back as they called out in the distance, “Hey, Lynch! You okay, brother? Lynch?”
My head was throbbing to the point where I thought my skull would explode, so a groan was all I could muster. I felt myself being shaken as someone called out again, “Lynch! Come on, man. Wake the fuck up!”
There was something about the panicked tone of my brother’s voice that pulled me to my senses. I finally managed to force my eyes open, but everything was contorted and blurred. My head was throbbing as I looked around and tried to make sense of what was going on.
Widow continued to yell and tug at my arm until I finally grumbled, “Gonna need you to stop that shit.”
“It’s about fucking time.” My ears were still ringing, but I heard him ask, “You alright?”
“No... No, I’m not.” I continued to squint, trying to see through the thick cloud of dust and smoke. “Gonna need a minute.”
“Sorry, brother, but that’s something we just don’t have.” I could hear the urgency in Widow’s voice as he pushed, “Can you sit up?”
“Yeah, I’m trying.” I ran a hand over my face, attempting to collect myself. “What the fuck happened?”
“Got no fucking idea. Some kind of explosion.”
I looked up at Widow and found him covered from head to foot in dust and mortar. He had multiple cuts and scrapes along his face and arms and a slight gash on his thigh. The poor guy looked like he’d gone a round or two with a fucking tornado, and the tornado won.
I turned and glanced behind him to find the entire south wall of the strip club in utter shambles, and the guest bathrooms were all but gone. Concern marked his face as he motioned his head down the hall. “Looks like it took out the bathrooms and at least one of the red rooms is gone.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Nothing too serious.” Widow helped me up to my feet, then motioned his hand towards my side. “What about you?”
“Huh?” I looked down and gasped after noticing blood seeping through my shirt. I lifted it and assessed my jagged wound. “What the fuck?”
“You got a pretty good gash on your head, too,” Country announced as he came shuffling up behind us, holding an extinguisher. Like Widow and me, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. He was covered in debris and had numerous gashes all over his body, including various bruises and a knot on his jaw. “You don’t gotta worry, though. With a hard head like yours, you’ll be fine.”
“You should know all about having a hard fucking head.” I stepped over the busted brick and mortar and told him, “We need to make sure the fire is out.”