Total pages in book: 189
Estimated words: 181808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 909(@200wpm)___ 727(@250wpm)___ 606(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 909(@200wpm)___ 727(@250wpm)___ 606(@300wpm)
Larissa slightly lifted her shoulders, silently admitting she had been comparing herself to the other women.
“How do you survive?”
Vindictive humor filled Killyama’s expression. “I put the fear of my boot in them. Makes my days a little brighter.”
When she didn’t laugh, Killyama grew serious. “I trust Train.”
“Have you heard if Moon is cheating on me?”
“No, but if he was, Train wouldn’t tell me.”
Larissa worried her bottom lip as a woman came up to the bar, dressed in a mesh sapphire dress and mask. Little designs were spotted throughout, leaving most of her skin bare, the design becoming more intricate over her private areas.
She waited until the woman stepped away from the bar before asking, “Is she a Last Rider?”
“Not yet.” Killyama dragged a whiskey bottle closer.
“Nuh-uh. Remember, we have babies to feed.”
“I wasn’t going to drink it. I was going to throw it at that bitch.”
Larissa couldn’t blame her. The back was more indecent than the front. There was no design on the back, allowing a clear view of the woman’s thong.
“I don’t know many of the rules, but Moon did tell me women aren’t allowed to fight each other.”
“Fuck off.”
Larissa laughed. “You don’t mean that.”
“No. You’re too nice for us to be best buds, but I don’t mind hanging around you in small doses. I’ll help you work on becoming more like me. Moon won’t be able to not fall in love with you.”
“Your help would be greatly appreciated.” Ruefully, she smiled sadly at Killyama. “I love him so much it hurts.”
Three men came up to the bar, dressed identically, excepted for the difference in color uniforms and masks.
“The Three Musketeers, Puck?” Killyama slid a beer to the one closest to her.
“Yeah. I wasn’t happy with it, but Jesus talked me and Nickel into going along with it.”
Killyama gave the other two beers. “How?”
“One lucky lady is going to get three votes.”
“Or several lucky ladies,” Jesus butted in. “Depending on Nickel’s stamina.”
After that, Killyama and her tuned them out when they started teasing each other.
“By the way, before I forget, where did you get the jacket you were wearing?”
“I made it.”
“You see something like it in a store?” Killyama refilled her glass with more ginger ale.
“No. I just thought it would be cute to be dressed like one of the Pink Ladies.”
“Huh?”
“From Grease.” Larissa nodded her head, waiting for the Pink Ladies to click at the mention of Grease.
“Oh …”
Clearly, she didn’t get it, the confusion evident on Killyama’s face.
“Didn’t the girls in Grease wear black jackets, not red satin? They sure as fuck didn’t have Last Riders written on the back. Didn’t they show some tits, too? The way you had that jacket zipped up, with that scarf, you could have gotten a G rating. I saved your ass there.”
“Yes, you did,” she agreed thankfully. “I forgot to mention, I love your outfit. I wouldn’t run if I were a felon and you came for me dressed like that.”
“That’s right, because you know I’d catch your ass.”
Larissa started to laugh then stopped when she realized Killyama wasn’t joking. She changed the subject. Something about Killyama scared her. The woman was actually acting as if she were a real bounty hunter.
“You think Train and Moon will be much longer?”
“If he’s not here in five more minutes, I’ll …” Killyama broke off, her eyes widening and a gleam entering her eyes that Larissa had never seen before.
Larissa turned to see who she was staring at.
“Holy shhhiitt,” Killyama purred.
She wanted to purr herself. One of The Last Riders had just walked in, wearing the costume of the main character from Warlord from Hell.
“Who’s is that?”
Larissa began to explain, “He’s a character from Warlord f—”
“I know who he’s supposed to be.” Killyama eyed the warlord as if she were about to rip his costume off. “I meant, who is in the fucking costume?”
“Oh … I have no idea. You’d have a better clue than I would.” Larissa couldn’t take her eyes off the warlord. “He must have spent a fortune on that costume.”
“Worth every fucking cent, however much it was.”
She had to agree. Whoever it was seemed to have all the accessories. He even had a choker grasped in his gloved hand.
“Is Train coming as anyone?”
Killyama shrugged. “I forget.”
The warlord strode across the room to where Viper and Winter were standing in their Zorro costumes.
Was it her, or did the man in the costume move the same way the actor did in the show?
Larissa tilted her head to get a better view when a man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera blocked it.
“Do you think he’s a recruit or a Last Rider?”
Killyama braced her elbows on the bar to continue to gawk at the warlord. “From how long Viper is talking to him, he’s a Last Rider. He doesn’t give new recruits the time of day at parties.”