Claimed by the Biker Alpha’s
“A little game of chance. Keeps things interesting.”
My heart started to pound again, not from thunder this time, but from a different kind of fear. This was a game I knew nothing about. A game with rules I didn’t understand, but whose intent felt chillingly clear.
“No, no, that’s… that’s insane,” I stammered, gripping Jax’s armrest harder. “Nobody plays that for real.”
Dare shrugged, a casual movement that did nothing to alleviate the growing dread in my stomach. “It’s not with a real gun, angel. We have our own version.” He pulled something from his pocket. It glinted in the dim light. A small, heavy metal flask.
Bab Populer