Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“Well, what’s your plan?” he asked. “It ain’t like you can keep her holed up in your room forever.”
“I hadn’t got that far,” I admitted.
Dad just stared at me, waiting. I hated when he did that. It was a tool that he used pretty fucking often and it worked. Sit there silently for long enough and the person you want to talk will eventually fill the silence. It was human nature. Even after years of dealing with that shit, I still broke first.
“Once she’s on her feet, she’ll be gone,” I said through gritted teeth.
“And how long will that be?” he asked around his cigarette.
“Few more days,” I replied. “A week, maybe.”
“She’s already been here a few days,” he pointed out. “I understand your predicament, boy, you’re in a tough spot. But you know gash ain’t allowed to stay here unless we’re on lockdown.”
I didn’t show any outward emotion, but inside I was seething. The rule was in place for a reason. We’d have fucking anarchy on our hands with wives and side-pieces decided they were going to start staying at the club. The rule gave the brothers a plausible excuse for keeping the two groups separate, on the surface at least. But I knew for a fact that some of the guys kept women in their rooms for days, too strung out to leave or too busy fucking to worry about time limits. The only reason he was giving me shit about Vera is because I wasn’t fucking her. There wasn’t anything lurid going on in my shitty room at the end of the hallway and that couldn’t be allowed to stand.
“I’ll have her out by morning,” I said.
“See that you do,” he replied.
* * *
Hours later I was out front checking the tire pressure on my bike when word came down from the front gate that there were some cops out there asking questions. Normally, dealing with that shit was way above my pay grade, but this time the cops were asking for me by name.
“Christ,” my dad muttered, shooting me a glare. “Let’s go.”
We started walking down the long gravel driveway and I expected him to give me hell, but he didn’t.
“Your mother,” he said flatly.
“It’s the only way they’d know to look for me here,” I replied. I’d come to the same conclusion the minute I’d heard the cops were looking for me.
“That woman,” he said, shaking his head. “Too sweet for her own damn good.”
“And she can’t lie for shit,” I added.
“No.” He laughed. “She sure can’t.”
“How do you want to play this?” I asked as we got close enough to see the cruiser parked right outside the gate.
“Girl asked you to give her a ride, you dropped her at a bus stop outside Tacoma and you haven’t seen her since.”
“That simple?” I asked.
“Jesus, you’ve got more of your ma in ya than I’d like to admit. Yeah, that simple. The less you say the more you look like you’re tellin’ the truth. Only people that are hidin’ shit try to explain themselves.”
We stopped talking when we got close enough for the cops and the recruit watching the gate to hear us.
“What can we do for you, officers?” my dad called out, grinning.
The two cops at the gate were old friends. Barry had gone to school with my dad from first grade to graduation, or would have if my dad had finished high school, and Carl’s sister was married to one of the club members. Neither of the two were real interested in causing trouble, but they had to do their jobs anyhow. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief.
“Hey, man,” Barry said, giving my dad a nod. “Got a call from up north, said Charlie had gotten into some trouble.”
“Yeah,” my dad said, reaching out to scrub the top of my head with his fist like I was five years old. “Dealt out a little justice to a man who was beating on his daughter.” He smiled proudly and shrugged, like what can you do. “The preacher didn’t press charges though.”
My father was a fucking master at manipulation. If I hadn’t known it before we’d joined this little huddle, my mouth would have dropped open in shock at his skill.
“Yeah,” Barry said, scratching his head. “Seems that preacher’s daughter’s gone missing. Folks said they saw her leave with Charlie.”
“That true?” my dad asked. That was my cue.
“She asked me to take her to a bus stop,” I said, shrugging.
“Is that right?” Barry asked.
“Yeah. Couple miles out of town.”
“And you just left her there?”
I looked at him like he was stupid. “She wanted to catch a bus.”
Barry and Carl stared at me. I couldn’t tell if they were trying to figure out if I was lying or if they had run out of questions and weren’t sure what to do now.