Jaded – Beautiful Biker Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Crime, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 212
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
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“She had nobody. No mom, an abusive father who was in jail for what he did to her and tried to do to me. If someone had just given a shit…”

“Oh!” Francie gasped. “Don’t blame me for that girl’s bullshit. She was a bad seed ‘n you know it. You’re the only one who lived in denial about it.”

“Yeah, maybe. But at least I never gave up on her. And it doesn’t justify the way you treated me.”

“Yeah, all about you, Gianna. Whatever. Take on two teenaged girls that were all fucked up from their white trash parents and somehow I’m the bad guy.”

G laughed. “Yeah, I’ve never been all about me, but maybe I should start thinkin’ more about me. I need to go. Good luck with your next appointment. If you wanna tell me about it, give me a call. I’m done being the one to always reach out. Same goes for you, Daddy. Except you only reach out when you want or need something, so don’t bother.”

She breezed past me and went out to the truck.

Francie’s and her brother’s eyes were on me.

I said nothing. I walked out behind her, shut the tailgate and got in.

She was trembling in her seat.

“Baby…”

“No. Don’t say anything until we’re out of this driveway, out of this fucking town. I need a minute.”

I gave her thigh a squeeze, then started the truck and backed out.

She turned my stereo on and fiddled with the tuner until she changed her mind about the radio and hit play on my CD player. I had a half dozen discs in the caddy. Suicidal Tendencies’ You Can’t Bring Me Down started and she cranked the volume and glared out the windshield with her arms crossed, looking really fucking angry.

Two minutes in, she abruptly turned it off.

“I wanna scream,” she told the windshield.

“Don’t blame ya,” I replied.

Her eyes cut to me, and they were on fire. “No. I mean it. I want to scream so loud and so long that I lose my voice. I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long about so many things.” She banged her head against the headrest with frustration. “So long. Maybe that’s why I write and why I cut, so I can send it somewhere because it’s just so full in me. I can only hold so much until it overflows.” She raked her hands through her hair and growled. “You know? If I could let it out, let it all out, how would it feel?”

I pulled over on the soft shoulder and turned the hazards on. “Do it. Out there though, so you don’t blow out my windows.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she threatened.

I gestured toward the forest that ran alongside the road we were on. “Do it. Nobody around for miles except whoever’s on these roads. And there hasn’t hardly been any cars the last few minutes.”

She sighed.

“And even if there were a million people here, I’d say do it anyway. You need it out, get it the fuck out. Do it, baby. Primal scream therapy.” I shrugged.

She looked at me with her eyes working over the idea. I unclipped her seatbelt, then did the same with my own.

“Let’s do it.”

She grabbed my wrist. “I need to do this alone.”

I jutted my chin. “Good for you for standing up for yourself, baby. Proud of you. Now, go scream it out. Get it gone.”

She nodded, chin trembling as she opened the door and stepped out, then walked down the culvert through the trees. I hit the power buttons for the driver and passenger windows and took them down just two inches, then turned the truck off.

A minute passed. Then another. Not many cars went by. Two or three. I reclined my seat and stared at the sky through my sunroof.

Another few minutes went by where I was on the road alone. I was just about to go see if she was all right when I heard it. A scream. A primal fucking war cry. It was loud. Birds soared from the trees up into the sky. Hundreds of them. And it made a knot form in the middle of my throat because I could hear a fuck of a lot of emotion in it. Pain. Frustration. Rage. As it echoed, I could almost swear I saw the blue and grey streaks of the late afternoon sky ripple from Gigi’s scream.

And then it was quiet. Nothing. Not a bird. Not even the buzz of an insect.

And she came through the trees and got into the truck, brushed her hair out of her eyes and clipped her seatbelt.

“Feel better?” I asked, fixing my seat.

Her head turned so she could look me in the eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely.

A smile spread across my face. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of my girl. I love you; you know that?”



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