Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 48700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
I skirt around tables and dodge bodies on my way to deliver the beer. As I move to step around the two bikers Jessup warned me about, the one with the scar steps in front of me, blocking my path.
"Hey, doll," he drawls, eyeing me like I'm the last shot of whiskey left in the bar.
"Excuse me."
He doesn't move.
Great. I guess we're doing this.
"Can I help you or are you just going to stare at me all night?"
He smirks, the scar down the side of his face pulling taut. "How about you get a couple shots for me and my brother here, and then join us? I'll save a spot for you on my lap."
"Sorry, we don't serve delusions here. Only alcohol," I shoot back, earning laughter from the other guys around the pool table. Even his brother chuckles.
Apparently, he doesn't find me nearly as funny as everyone else. His smirk slips, his stare turning cold. "You too good for us, you rude bitch?"
"Nope. Just busy and not interested."
"Didn't ask for your fuckin' schedule. You want a tip, work for it, bitch."
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Rick, one of the bikers from my booth, haul himself upright from where he was leaning over the pool table. He sets his cue stick down, turning slowly.
"Ease off, Phantom. She's Memphis's old lady."
Memphis's old lady? What the crap? Is that why everyone is being respectful? They all think I belong to him or something?
"I am not hi—"
"Don't give a fuck," Phantom sneers. "The stuck-up bitch needs to learn some manners. I'm going to teach her. Simple mathematics."
"Chill the fuck out with that shit," Rick snaps at him. "Memphis wouldn't appreciate you talkin' to his girl like that."
"Yeah?" Phantom makes a show of looking around. "Well, Memphis ain't here, is he?" He smirks at Rick. "And unless you're still a snitchin' ass motherfucker, there's no reason he's going to find out, now is there?"
His words are a match, and Rick's temper, the gasoline. The two collide, erupting into flames without warning.
"You son of a bitch!" Rick roars, launching himself at Phantom.
Fists fly and curses bounce around the bar as a crowd quickly gathers. No one tries to intervene or break it up.
I spin, searching for Venom. I find him near the door to the bar, watching the scene unfold. He doesn't seem like he's in a big hurry to stop the fight, either.
He catches my gaze, his upper lip curling in a way that reminds me of a rabid dog. The man hates me. There's no other explanation for the way he looks at me. There's no explanation for him not helping right now, either.
I'm on my own in the middle of a fight between two bikers. Awesome.
"Jessup! I need help!" I shout, calling for backup from someone who might actually give a crap as I duck, trying to scurry out of the way.
I'm nearly out of the danger zone when Phantom spots me. Pure malice flows throw his expression as he reaches out, shoving me backward into one of Rick's biker buddies. The man's elbow catches me in the ribs—hard.
The bottles tumble from my hands, beer spilling all around me.
Glass shatters as one of the bottles breaks.
I cry out as my feet tangle, and the floor rushes up to meet me. I go down hard, landing on my ass with my hands extended to catch myself. A searing pain shoots up my left arm as a shard of glass slices my palm open. It isn't deep, but it hurts like hell.
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to cry. For some reason, I don't want to let these men see me cry. Even in the midst of the chaos, it seems important that I don't let them see my tears.
"Kylie!" Memphis roars suddenly, his voice cutting through the maelstrom.
I do sob this time—relief crashing through me when I look up and see him wading through the crowd like an avenging angel, murder stamped across his handsome face.
He storms into the fray like a demon, his eyes blazing with fury as they lock onto Phantom and Rick, who are still throwing punches. He moves with the grace of a predator, his muscles coiled and ready to strike.
In one swift motion, he grabs Phantom and Rick by the backs of their cuts, his fingers curling into the worn leather as he yanks them apart.
My heart pounds as he roars a curse, lifting them off their feet as if they weigh nothing. Their legs dangle as he holds them inches above the floor, the muscles in his arms flexed. It can't be easy to do, but he doesn't even falter.
His jaw clenches, a vein pulsing in his neck as he glowers at them. "You pieces of shit," he snarls, his voice dripping with venom. "You come into my goddamn bar and put your hands on my woman?"