Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Who’re the chicks?” Kai cuts in, slinking up behind Jameson.
“None of your damn business. They’re. Not. For. You,” he states in a warning, making Kai snigger. “I hear you loud and clear.” He backs away hands high in surrender before disappearing through the door he snuck in from.
“We have Bruiser coming into town next weekend. I want everyone here unless it’s essential for them to be outta town to be here for the party,” Alec informs Jameson.
“Riley’s dad?” I query.
“Yeah. He went nomad a few years back and is now retiring his patch. Wants to go live out his days in the mountains.”
“He’s dying?”
“Cancer. Terrible fucking disease,” Jameson chimes in.
That’s horrible. “Does Riley still come around here?” Alec hasn’t mentioned Kai and Riley seeking me out over a year ago.
“No. She owns a shit ton of businesses all over the US. Doesn’t want anything to do with the club,” Jackie adds her two cents. “Pretty and brains, that one.”
“Always thought she was too good for us,” Jameson grunts.
“Jackie, bring some grub to my office, yeah.” Alec tells her.
“Sure thing.”
As we walk through the clubhouse, I recognize many faces and become overwhelmed when they all make a point to welcome me home. There’s new faces too, a girl called Amy behind the bar, bright red hair to match a flirty personality. She comes around the bar to throw her arms around me like she’s known me forever. Alec jerks his chin to a couple of prospects, “That’s PB and Idiot, if you need anything send those assholes to get it.” He doesn’t even have to tell me what PB stands for, the boy has golden hair and crystal blue eyes. Pretty boy through and through, he looks like a Hemsworth brother, not a club brother.
“Why do you call the small one Idiot?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Because he is one, shot his gun at a cookout trying to impress a club slut. Bullet hit Jameson in the leg.” I cover my mouth as the gasp flees it. “Rage wanted his head on a stick, but Jameson is a forgiving bastard.”
“So no punishment?” I rush out, mouth wide.
Grunting, Alec wraps his arm around the back of my shoulders, “Rage cut the boy’s trigger finger off, no shooting for him.”
I chance a look down at the boys hand and sure enough he’s missing his index finger. Alec guides me down the hall to his office squeezing my shoulder when we enter. The last time I was in here was when Alec found his mother. It’s changed. There’s a bed against the back wall now, and a panel of the wall is now a glass window. My feet carry me over to it. Looking out, I see our lake in the distance, beyond the fence separating his place from the outside world.
“A lot has changed.” I sigh.
“And a lot hasn’t,” he replies. “Want to hear something funny?”
“Always.” I smile over at him.
“Mason is married. Has a kid on the way.”
“Wow.” I wander over to his bed. “Why is that funny, though?”
“Guess who he married.” He quirks a brow, and my mind searches all the people it could possible be. Heidi.
“No way!” I exclaim.
“Yes way.” Damn, Alec was right about them.
“Did she give you my letter?” It shouldn’t matter now, but I’m curious.
His arms drop down, gripping the end of the table. “What letter?”
That fucking skanky bitch. I should have known better.
“It doesn’t matter. You sleep here?” I change the subject as I walk around, looking at all the things that make up the guy he’s become.
“Couldn’t sleep in that room without you.”
“Why do they call you Animal?” I peek at him over my shoulder. He’s leaning his ass against his desk, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, arms folded, the veins bulging.
“I was angry when you left. Took it out in the fight pit.”
I move to his bed, wanting to know how many women have been in it. It’s not my right to ask, but fuck, I want to know. No, you don’t.
What if he’s had that bar girl Amy in here? Or the Gracie woman occupying Rage? Jackie? I want to change it all—click my fingers and just go back…start again, rewrite the mistakes.
“What are you thinking about?” His gaze so intense, it incites a ripple of longing through me.
“I was wondering why Glen doesn’t have a road name.” Lies.
He stands, taking a few steps toward me. “He was a prospect for a long time. Nothing stuck, so he’s Glen.” Reaching out, he strokes a stray hair from my cheek. My hand grabs his wrist, holding it to my face, warmth saturating me.
I lived so long in the dust of our relationship, I’m starved of affection, human contact that means something. Every follicle on my body rises in welcome to his touch.
“What were you really thinking about, Drew?” My name on his lips causes a mewing sound to purr out of me. Fucking hell, I’m pathetic.