Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
He’s an older biker, maybe in his late forties. He’s had a hard life, that much is clear by the sleek lines on his face, his graying hair and the multiple scars that mar his skin. His patch tells me that his position in the club is Treasurer. I’ve been doing some research on all the positions, and I must say I’m quite interested. I wouldn’t mind writing a story about the inner workings of a club.
It's very different to anything I could have ever imagined.
On the outside, they look scary and unapproachable, but on the inside they’re like family. A big, scary, leather-bound family. But family all the same. It’s fascinating, the way they run everything. Everyone has a position, and their position is equally as important as the next. Sure, they’re most definitely doing illegal things, but they’re also some of the most loyal, dedicated men I’ve ever met.
“Thanks,” I respond to Venus with a smile.
“Your accent. You from the south?”
“For a little while, not as long as my accent would indicate, though. It seems to have stuck to me, no matter how hard I try to drown it out.”
“I like it.”
“Why, thank you.”
I get back to work, my eyes scanning the crowd often for Western, but I still haven’t seen him since the fight. I can’t help but wonder if he’s okay. I’m certain he is, but it kills me that he’s not speaking to me. He hasn’t said a single word in my direction since the night I found those frogs and I know he’s angry. Gosh, I don’t blame him, but I wish I could just explain myself.
“Heard you been causin’ trouble in my club.”
Colt’s smooth, gravelly voice comes from behind me, and I turn to see him reaching for a bottle of liquor. I didn’t even hear him come into the bar, and I jerk with shock as I take a step away to better see him. He looks the same as he always does, and he carries himself with that effortless charm that is borderline addictive. If I wasn’t so into Western, I would probably be unable to say no if Colt ever offered himself up to me.
Gosh, who am I kidding?
I’ve seen the women he gets around with.
He wouldn’t be offering me a single damned thing.
“Unfortunately, you heard right,” I answer, giving him a sheepish smile.
He pauses, glancing at me, those eyes raking over my body without apology.
“It was bold of you, to confront someone so powerful.”
“Yes,” I squeak. “Yes, it was. It was also incredibly stupid. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I was just so mad...”
“Anger is somethin’ that you keep concealed at all times. It’ll break you and give you away before logic sets in.”
My cheeks flush and I nod.
“I’m not mad, though. You defendin’ my boy.”
Shocked, I jerk back a little. His words surprising me. Out of everyone, I thought he would have the most to say to me.
“Can I ask why you haven’t?”
My words are confronting and risky, but it’s a question that has been burning for weeks now.
“Do you know how power works, Bonnie?”
I tip my head to the side, confused.
“There is a chain of power leading up to every King. You don’t just take down the King and expect to walk away. No, that won’t work, because all the people below him will have your head.”
His explanation, though weirdly complicated, is actually crystal clear.
“Bill is the King?”
Colt shakes his head. “No, Bill works for the King. If it were as easy as taking him out, with no repercussions, do you think I wouldn’t have done it by now?”
“I didn’t mean to imply...”
He cuts me off. “Men like Bill Whart are powerful, not because of who they are, but because of who they work for. When you have the people who are meant to protect you, working for the bad guys, it makes things a little fuckin’ tough.”
He’s talking about the police officers.
“I see your point,” I say. “I shouldn’t have put my foot in it by saying something to Bill.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. What’s done is done, but know this, my son came first. My sole purpose was gettin’ him through twenty years of pure fuckin’ hell. He was in a place where I couldn’t protect him. When you’ve got people higher up, then you know you’re never safe, not even in prison. Bill will have his day, now that Western is free, don’t you worry about that.”
Guilt slams into my chest, because I didn’t even consider that the reason Colt didn’t do anything was because he wanted to make sure Western got through it as unscathed as he possibly could. His name had already been dragged through the mud, and I have no doubt Bill would have been watching, waiting, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of retaliation. I also have no doubt that he probably had more than one person in the prison system working for him.