Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
But he came; he’s here. That must mean something.
“I’m ready.” My voice cracks, and I bite down on my lip to stop it from trembling. Like a coward, I stare at my tennis shoes, afraid that he can read my mind. He seems to have an uncanny knack for knowing what I’m thinking.
“Look at me,” he commands.
My eyes bolt to his. In seconds, the deep sapphire color changes to an almost black and I can tell he likes that. He likes it when I do what he says.
I puff out the air I was holding. My arms pebble with goose bumps. Axel reaches for my bag and I smell him, always fresh and clean, almost like the first drops of rain.
“Put a jacket on.” His mouth is at my ear.
I swallow. “I’m nervous.”
Wide-eyed, I wonder why I can’t remain quiet. As I turn my heated face into the hall closet, I fight the urge to hide inside it. Instead, I reach for my favorite three-quarter-length jacket and slip it on.
“Is this better?” It must please him since he grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“Relax,” he says.
I nod up at him, letting him lead me out, not once looking back.
AXEL
She’s been mute the whole drive up the canyon. The windows are open. If she doesn’t like it, I wouldn’t know. When I’m in a car, I prefer fresh air to the air conditioner.
Turning onto the long driveway that leads to the clubhouse, I gun it on the gravel, causing her to move forward, her hands trying to control her long hair. It’s wild and the just-fucked look is one of my favorites. So, it’s good that I can barely see her in the dark and all I do see are the glow from the dashboard and the lights from the clubhouse up ahead. I take a deep drag on my cigarette and flick it out the window.
It didn’t even occur to me not to bring her here. But she’s nervous and uncomfortable. Her leg is bouncing a mile a minute. And she’s picking at her nail polish. Yep… this is a mistake, but I’m too tired to drop her at a hotel now.
Tomorrow I’ll give her some cash. Maybe I’ll call Charlie. See if she needs help at the diner.
“Look.” I sigh. My head is pounding from being on the road earlier today for hours. That and being robbed. It has nothing to do with how the ice princess who sits next to me has invaded my life, my space. “Antoinette.”
She turns and a wisp of her silver locks blows across her face as her pretty fingers brush it away.
“Christ.” I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. “I need you to stay in my room unless I’m with you, understand?”
She stares at me. Frowning, I return my attention to the road. The compound is pretty calm tonight, thank fuck. I’d be hearing music if a party was going on.
The clubhouse is the only real place I consider home. From the time I started hanging out with Blade and David in middle school, I would end up here more and more as my parents went through a shitty divorce.
Blade’s grandfather, the founder of the Disciples, bought this land after he came back from Vietnam. It’s been passed down to the club with every generation.
“Is this your house?” She sounds confused. You can’t see much of the property in the dark. The smell of orange blossoms is thick tonight. All the lights are on inside, which means Blade is still there. When I pull into my spot, the motion sensor lights flash on. I shift into park and turn off the engine.
“No. I don’t have a house.”
She turns to look at me. “I don’t understand. What is this place?”
The front screen door bangs open and a couple of old-timers emerge. Their cigarette smoke and dirt from the dry gravel infiltrate the car.
“Is this where your gang lives?” She whispers the gang part, her eyes wide as she stares at Ditch who is just noticing us. Her face is pale in the moonlight.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t have the time or inclination to explain certain things. But I will warn you one time: don’t ever call us a gang.” She gasps and continues to look around as if she’s expecting a murderer to jump out and get her.
I rub the back of my neck. “I’m fucking tired. Is this a problem?”
Her eyes dart back to mine and her vulnerability is pouring out of them. And for some reason, I hate that.
I don’t want to feel her fear. She wants a hero, someone to protect her. That’s not me.
Opening my door, I growl, “I guess I figured you’d be fine going anywhere since you seem to think your calling in life is to take your clothes off for men.”