Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Fuck, having her home is good, but I’m gonna have to boost security around the house. Can’t let her out of my sight till I know she’ll fucking behave, and I don’t trust the Scorpions not to go after any of us now.
They broke one of the Bastards’ rules, no women and no children. They broke that rule, will we?
Fuck.
My damn head is everywhere.
Pulling into my neighborhood only strengthens my resolve to make sure the Scorpions don’t come anywhere near us again. We’ve got a good, quiet community here. We’ve established a giant ring of protection around us. We keep drugs out, we don’t do protection rackets, and we take care of everyone we can.
Crime is practically nonexistent.
We don’t want the people around us unhappy. Unhappiness is the quickest way to find the law and all those agencies that hate MC’s coming down on our heads.
Some calm has entered my head when I turn down my street. Finally, I’ve got ideas on how to go forward, but I still need a better map of where the Scorpions stand right now.
I’m calm and have a fucking desire to fix whatever is broken inside of my Allie Cat.
I need her on my side, I need my fucking ride-or-die chick back. I need her like I need air to breathe. And I need my son with me for as long as I can keep him by my side.
Fuck, I have a son!
A real fucking part of my soul in a tiny little body that depends on me for love and safety. Fuck, that’s a heady feeling. I may have missed so many fucking firsts, but I won’t miss another one.
Everything is bright and shiny until I see a huge fucking man on my front lawn cradling the front wheel of a bike like it’s his dying hound. His shoulders are fucking heaving up and down as his big, bushy-bearded ass rocks.
What. The. Fuck.
Slowing my bike to a sudden stop in my driveway, I can already see the aftermath of what looks like some serious shit that went down.
First fucking clue that gives me the impression there was trouble beyond fucking baby Hammy weeping in my front yard? A fucking minivan is sitting on top of a fucking motorcycle.
The next is Poster Boy lifting his hands as he walks up to me.
Shutting off the engine of my bike, I look down at the gas tank for a long time. I’ve already raised my hand up to keep Poster Boy from talking.
I need this little moment before I decide how many dead prospects is a bad thing.
When I think I’ve got my shit under control, I look up at Poster Boy and ask, “Allie?”
“Inside, Pres,” he says, and it looks like he wants to say more but he sure as fuck knows not to.
“The van on the bike?” I ask.
“Hammy parked it behind the van. Allie didn’t like it when she found out her battery was missin’.”
I try to keep my voice as calm as possible. “Why isn’t someone inside with them right now?”
Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he says, “Well, she locked us out.”
“You let her lock you out?” I ask, and again I force myself not to shoot him in the foot with the Glock that’s holstered on my hip.
“Well… none of us wanted to touch her.”
Nodding my head, I can understand that.
I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches my woman.
“Where’s Steve?” I ask.
Motherfucker starts grinning at me. “Well, Tampon is in the backyard keepin’ watch.”
What. The. Fuck.
“Why is he bein’ called Tampon?” I ask, a chuckle creeping into my voice.
Poster Boy smirks. “He whipped one out when Allie said she needed to go to the store to get some.”
“Why was he offering my ol’ lady a tampon again?”
Poster Boy’s smirk stretches into a grin. “’Cause he carries one for when he gets nosebleeds, apparently.”
“He don’t like his new name does he?” I ask with a laugh.
“Nope.”
I unsaddle from the seat of my bike. “Fuck, call Pappy and have him bring the flatbed. See what we can do for the bike and have him check the van out as well.”
“Alright,” he says with a nod and heads over to stand near Hammy.
“Hammy,” I shout at the big man sitting on my lawn.
“Yeah, Pres?” he says, looking up with big brown wet eyes.
“You’re on toilet duty at the clubhouse for a week,” I say with a spit on the ground. “Don’t ever park your bike behind a fucking cage like you did again.”
Poor fucking Hammy, I feel for the fucker. He got that bike as a present for his sixteenth birthday, and his daddy and him rebuilt it together. That bike means more to him than anything.
Fuck. Today is just going to get even better, I can feel it.
Putting the key into the lock, I wait a moment and take a deep breath. Even if Allie doesn’t remember who the fuck she was, she sure as fuck is still a damn hellcat. That’s why I fell for her ass in the first place.