Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Yes,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “You weren’t supposed to go slumming with the biker trash.”
“Oh, gosh, my bad,” she said in a syrupy tone. “What was the plan then? For me to be assaulted and harmed at the hands of criminals for a few days before you were able to scrape together enough money to pay off your debts?”
He had the audacity to look unashamed.
“Just go, Oliver. It’s over. We never have to see each other again. Hopefully, you won’t be stupid enough to borrow money from loan sharks again.”
He snorted. “Loan sharks you’re fucking.”
Brenna didn’t bother to correct him. She wasn’t fucking loan sharks—just one loan shark.
And it was more than fuck—
Nope. No, it’s not. It’s nothing more than that.
“Oliver. Go.”
“No.” He crowded her against the car. “I’m not going anywhere. You owe me.”
“Owe you?” she shrieked. “Have you lost your mind?’
He pointed to his face. “I’ve missed three days of work because of you. Because you couldn’t go along with the plan. You had to play the victim and get them on your side.”
“Oh my God.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “You have. You’ve lost your freakin’ mind.”
Fine. Two could play dirty. “You know what, Oliver? I am his ol’ lady, and if you don’t get the hell out of my way, I’ll get Lock and Spec to pay you a little visit in the middle of the night. Trust me, you’ll be longing for days when all you had were bruises.”
She’d never, but the words had the desired effect. Fear flashed in his eyes. And when she rammed her knee upward for a swift shot to his balls, well, he doubled over, gagging and groaning. It allowed her to shove him away and turn to Caleb.
“Sorry about that, you little drooly monster. Let’s get home to Daddy. Your Daddy. Not mine. Oh my God, never mind.” The baby looked at her with a slobbery grin as he munched his biscuit. She slammed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side.
Once in the car, she hit the lock just in time for Oliver to recover and grab the door handle.
“Open the fucking door!” he shouted. “This isn’t the end. I’ll make them pay. I’ll make you all pay!”
She turned on the ignition and peeled out of the parking spot, leaving him hollering after her like a madman. “All right,” she said to Caleb in a cheerful voice that concealed the racing of her heart and trembling hands. “Here we go!”
A final peek behind revealed Oliver still shouting from the curb. Pedestrians gave him a wide berth as he ranted like a madman.
Brenna focused on the road and getting her heart rate under control. It was over. Oliver was her past. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to take this further and risk more harm.
Right?
Caleb babbled and giggled as she drove over a speed bump.
Could Caleb and Lock be part of her future?
You need to stop fantasizing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRENNA WAS A lifesaver. Truly.
This emergency call came from a local motel owner whose beachfront property brought in a disgusting amount of money each tourist season. They’d recently let an employee go after more than one complaint of him stealing from guests. Upon his firing, he’d made substantial threats toward the owner and then walked out with a set of keys to the administrative office, including one for the safe. The manager was so desperate to have the locks rekeyed he’d offered an ass-load of cash for immediate service—five times Lock’s advertised emergency rate.
Without Brenna’s offer to watch Caleb, he’d have had to pass on the opportunity to make a quick and hefty buck. Nothing was better than a simple job that paid well. In and out in twenty minutes with a fat wallet.
On the way home, he popped by the clubhouse after getting a call from Ty. Hopefully, Brenna would forgive him for being gone a few minutes longer. She’d promised her afternoon was wide open, and she’d offered to stay with Caleb as long as he needed.
“Hey, brother,” he said as he strode into the clubhouse.
Ty looked over his shoulder from his seat at the bar. “Hey, man. Thanks for coming back. Could use your expertise with something.”
“Anything. What can I do for ya?”
He stood and walked around the bar, where he pulled out a metal box about ten by ten inches—a portable safe.
“What’s this?”
“Found it in my spare room’s closet. Shoved way deep in there.” Tyler’s expression didn’t change from the severe one he often wore.
“It’s not yours?” Lock walked over to it. The safe had a dial instead of the more modern digital style he’d become accustomed to working with lately.
“Pretty sure Margot left it.”
“Ahh.” Ty’s ex-wife. Lock didn’t know the whole story, and he’d been warned not to ask, but he’d heard it was messy as hell. He’d been told she was the type of woman a man didn’t wish on his worst enemy.