Lock (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #5) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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He’d understand in time. Once he found someone better suited to him and his lifestyle, he’d realize she was right to break it off.

“He’s gone. Time to stop thinking about him,” she said aloud as she grabbed one of her favorite IPAs from the refrigerator. After popping the top with a bottle opener magnet on her refrigerator, she snagged the salsa, then her favorite lime-flavored tortilla chips.

She set her unhealthy yet perfect dinner on the coffee table in front of the couch as she sat. “Ahh.” She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the back of the sofa. “Peace and quiet.” And there was a new episode of her favorite reality dating show coming on. Typically, she had to squeeze in time to watch it whenever Oliver wasn’t home.

Not anymore.

“I can do what I want,” she sang to a made-up melody as she opened the small drawer where she kept the remote. Instead of finding the little black remote that controlled her television, she saw a thick manila envelope with today’s date in Oliver’s handwriting.

Her stomach sank.

Damn, she did not want to have to call him already. He’d finally finished clearing out his belongings that morning, and all she wanted to do was revel in her solitude. But his job was important, and she knew firsthand how time-sensitive his cases could be. She couldn’t live with herself if someone suffered because she refused to tell him about the envelope.

With a frustrated groan, she lifted the envelope from the drawer. It was much heavier and thicker than she’d have expected. Frowning, she noticed he’d sealed it. Brenna wasn’t enough of a vindictive bitch to open it and snoop. His clients were his business. Hell, his whole life was his business now. All she had to do was let him know about it, and her involvement ended there.

She pulled out her phone. A text would suffice.

Brenna: Found an envelope in the coffee table drawer. Looks important. I’ll put it in the mailbox tomorrow a.m. for you to grab.

There. That was perfect. She didn’t have to talk to or see him when he came to retrieve the packet. And just in case he tried to stop by around the time she usually left for work, she’d take off a few minutes early.

The phone immediately rang, drawing a long groan from her.

She couldn’t ignore it. She’d only sent the text ten seconds ago, so he clearly knew she had her phone on her.

“Crap,” she muttered as she hit accept. “Hello, Oliver.”

“Oh, my God, Bren, you are a lifesaver. I can’t believe I left that. I am such an idiot.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. Like I said, I’ll leave it in the mailbox so you can get it on your way into the office tomorrow. Or I can put it there right now if you need it tonight.”

He moaned. “Shit. I’m so fucked.” He sounded sincerely distraught.

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What’s wrong?”

You’re a damn pushover.

“I do need it tonight. It needs to be dropped off to a VIP client, but I’m in Tallahassee for work until tomorrow. I was supposed to drop it off before I left town. I am so screwed.”

Brenna bit off another grumble. She was way too nice. “Look,” she said with a sigh and roll of her eyes. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. I’ll drop it off if you tell me where to take it.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We might have broken up, but we don’t have to go out of our way to be nasty to each other. I can do you one favor.”

“Bren, you’re an angel.”

She squeezed harder, but it did nothing to ward off the incoming headache. “It’s no big deal.”

“No. Seriously, sweetheart, what would I do without you?”

The pet name had her frowning at the phone. “Oliver, you don’t have m—”

“Maybe when I get home, I can take you to dinner as a thank you.” His voice dropped to the husky timbre she’d once loved but hadn’t responded to in ages. Too long to have stayed together for as much time as they did.

A date? Was he crazy? “That’s not necessary, Oliver. I’m happy to help you out this one time. Just text me the address, and I’ll drop it off right now.” She disconnected the call before he had time to insist on dinner.

“Guess you will have to wait,” she said to her beer bottle as she stood.

By the time she ran upstairs and slipped out of her work clothes and into her standard cutoff shorts and graphic T-shirt, she had a text with an address waiting for her. He’d also added a line about how beautiful he found her and a second offer of dinner or drinks.

“Not responding,” she muttered as she grabbed her purse and the envelope.



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