Newton (Cerberus MC #31) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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My skin grows itchy the second I step back into the hallway, and I'm fighting the urge to scratch at it by the time I make it into the conference room.

Before long, every Cerberus member who helped out today is in the room.

The debrief doesn't take long, and, despite my urgency to get back to Brielle, I don't argue when Jinx lists me as one of many who needs to get across town and help evacuate the shelter. The location is no longer safe for the women and children there.

"There has always been more than one contingency plan," Jinx explains. "We just always hoped we'd never have to use them."

I can't look down the hallway when we file out of the room because I know doing so would force me to feed that part of me that needs to go and check to make sure that she's okay.

Another part of me, a selfish part, makes me wonder if she won't be moved from here before I return. If that happens, I don't know how I'll react. Honestly, I can't explain the draw to her that I feel. All I know is my gut is telling me to keep her close, and if I can trust anything, it's that instinct.

It screams at me all the way outside of the clubhouse, and it doesn't relent with each mile of distance that is put between us.

Chapter 6

Brielle

I feel twitchy as I pace the floor in the big bedroom.

This is his space, not something I can, for a second, deny with his scent lingering in the air.

The bed is made to perfection, the corners crisp with military precision.

The only thing that even hints that this room is lived in is the book about the Roman Empire on the bedside table. There are no clothes hanging out of drawers. There isn't a spot of dust on the hardwood floor surrounding the large area rug that dominates most of the room.

I sit in the oversized chair across the room, but it doesn't last long. I'm antsy, feeling like a sitting duck in this room.

Although there was no sign outside, I have to assume this is Cerberus MC's headquarters.

I heard the guy who drove me here ask where he should take me, but I never heard the answer. There's no telling what sort of conversation traveled through those headpieces they were both wearing on the fifteen-minute drive from the house my stepbrother died in to here.

I shake my hands out down by my hips, but it doesn't stop the tingling in my fingers. I make fists, clenching them and reopening them over and over, but it only helps a little.

Something tells me to run, but there's another voice that also screams at me to stay.

Nathan made his promises, and, if anything, the man keeps his word. He doesn't make idle threats. If it leaves his mouth, then it might as well be drilled into stone because he'll see it through.

It's how I know I'm as good as dead. I doubt the misery of my life will end as quickly as Xan's did. There will be no bullet through my skull, at least not before he hurts me to the point that I beg for it, and even then, he'll prolong my ending.

I feel exposed as I once again try to get comfortable in the armchair. There's no chance in hell I'll climb into the man's bed. When he comes back and finds me there, he may think it means he's able to take liberties I'm not offering.

I've heard the women in the house whisper about Cerberus. Although many of them, like myself, aren't from the area, a lot of them interact with women from town at their jobs. They bring home all sorts of stories, ones I have to eavesdrop on because there aren't people going out of their way to hold conversations with me. It's as if their instincts tell them I can't be trusted, and I guess, for the most part, that's true. Look where even the slightest hint of a friendship got Beth today.

The closet beckons to me, but I do my best to ignore it. There's no safety in there, despite what I thought as a child.

My mother married Nathan Adair when I was five and he seemed like a nice man. He’d dote on me and spoil me with gifts. I didn’t catch him watching me like many of the other men that my mother brought around.

He never faltered and never made me doubt him while they were dating. He treated me like his daughter, and Xan treated me like his sister. It lasted six months following their marriage, three months after finalizing the adoption that made me a real part of the family.

I remember the pride I felt that day, smiling for the camera as we stood beside the judge who signed the papers. The pictures from that day were still framed on my bedside table the day I ran this last time. When I tried to put it away once, Nathan made me lock my eyes on the images the entire time he hurt me.



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