Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Hey, Frost, what can I get you?”
Guess he had the name right. Brody’s voice quivered, but he seemed to be holding his shit together. Hopefully, this wouldn’t end up in a brawl that fucked up the guy’s bar. Especially because it wouldn’t end well for Frost. He could more than hold his own in a street fight, but four-on-one was never good odds.
“Just give me something on tap, man. Thanks.” He had no plans to drink it, so what the hell did it matter?
He took a seat at the bar, leaving two empty stools between himself and the other bikers. As the bartender slid the beer toward him, one of the bikers turned his way. A sneer marred the man’s pockmarked face. He had deep-set eyes and a skull tattooed on the side of his shaved head. The man was big. Not Jinx big, but not too far off either. The kind of man who could knock a guy out with one swing of his meaty fist. Something Frost hoped to avoid.
“Well, lookie here, boys. We got ourselves a prospect. A real-life baby biker. They let you out all by yourself, baby biker?”
Frost rolled his shoulders and then swiveled to face the group. The biker who’d been at the booth strode over to join his buddies. All four of them watched him with hungry eyes ready to battle.
Fuck.
“They do,” Frost answered. “They even let me piss by myself. I’m a big boy.” He winked. “What about you? Your friends hold your dick while you were prospecting?”
Oops. So much for playing it smart.
The guy’s eyes narrowed to two furious slits as he started to rise. Thankfully, one of his buddies put a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down.
Frost smirked. “Don’t want any trouble. Just stopped in to welcome you to town. We like visitors as long as they know the rules of the game when they’re in Handlers’ territory. You boys have a good night.”
Message delivered and received.
Now they knew their asses sat in Handlers’ territory, and there was nothing left to do but sit back and watch how they dealt with the news. If they were smart, they’d leave. If they were stupid, well, guess he’d find out soon.
The guy chuckled. “Oh, we know exactly where we are. Lithia, the little town in Florida ruled by the outlaw who was stupid enough to get sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.” He grinned. “Why wouldn’t we want to swing by and see what kinda pussies call that man president?”
Frost may not have a fancy degree, hell, he’d barely finished high school, but he was far from dumb. The guy was goading him and not being subtle about it. Even knowing he’d be falling into a trap, he couldn’t stop himself from defending his president, the bravest, fiercest, yet also the fairest man he’d ever known. Curly knew what it was to be accused of wrongdoing he was innocent of.
So did Frost.
And though his president might not know it, Frost felt a strong connection to the man because of that. Fuck anyone who talked shit about him.
“The kind of pussies who’d kick your stupid asses right back to Arkansas, motherfucker.” He took a step forward, working to appear as menacing as possible. “Leave town tonight, or the next visit will be from our enforcer.” Frost laughed. “Trust me, you do not want that crazy fuck banging on your motel door.”
He cracked his neck, then turned and strode away from the bar. Giving these assholes his back was foolish, but sticking around would be even more so. There was no way he could avoid starting a bloody fight if he were there for another minute longer. As he neared the door, a loud shout of “little bitch,” had his shoulders bunching.
Only years of trial and tribulation kept him from losing his shit.
Until a large body slammed into him from behind.
He flew forward, crashing into a table. The chairs scattered, and the corner of the table dug a painful point into his abdomen.
“We go wherever the fuck we want to go,” a voice growled behind him.
Frost rolled over with his back on the table. The corner of the table jabbed his spine, but the pain barely registered as he glanced up and saw a chair careening toward him, held by one of the bikers.
He raised his arms to protect his face.
Fuck, this was going to hurt.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“SO, WHATDAYA THINK?”
Curly’s question had Rachel whipping around. Brooke had brought her to the empty apartment on the Handlers’ property a few moments ago and seemed to have disappeared now that Curly arrived.
While it was nice of Brooke to let her and her brother have time together, it wasn’t necessary. She wanted to get to know the other woman as much as she did her brother.