Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
He smiles when I call him Doc, but it fades quickly. “The door locks from the inside. For privacy.”
Privacy. Great. “But I’m guessing I still can’t leave?”
He sighs. “You can leave whenever you want. But it’ll be safer for you if you stay here. Until this shit blows over.”
“Yeah, right.” I drop the bag on the floor by the bed and turn to him. “Am I stuck in this room now?”
“No.” He scoffs, gesturing at the door. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“The girls?” I freeze. His words sound less like an invitation and more like a threat. “No need, Doc. Just bring me food and booze, and I’ll sit here and contemplate the sorry state of my life. No intros necessary.”
“You’re not scared, are you?”
“Nah, just not in the mood for small talk,” I reply, refusing to let him get to me. “Tell me something. What happened to Viper, the dude Demon shot?”
His demeanor changes, his jaw tightens. “He’s hanging in there. Still alive.”
I nod. “Then I should definitely get drunk and stay in my room.”
His brows furrow. “Come on, Maggie. You’re tough. You can handle these women. They’re nice.”
“That sounds awful,” I reply and roll my eyes. It really does. I don’t know how to act, how to be around nice people if they’re actually nice. In my experience, nice folks are the ones you have to worry about. Well, women in general. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Come on.” He flashes a smile that makes my pussy wake up and do a little dance, nodding for me to go ahead of him.
I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically, but I walk ahead of him and into the private biker bar where everyone seems to be having a good time. “I need a beer. And a shot.”
Nova’s hand rests low on my back as he guides me to the bar, and I hate that I’m really starting to like the feel of his hands on me, even though I’m pissed at him.
He calls to the woman behind the bar, “Hey, Trudy. A couple shots of your finest tequila and two beers.”
Trudy, whoever she is, rolls her eyes and nods. “Sure thing, handsome. What kind of beer?”
“Anything you’ve got on tap,” I tell the woman as she turns to me with a slightly dimmer smile.
Trudy nods and turns away, but I keep an eye on her all the same, making sure she doesn’t try anything funny. I need some liquid courage if I’m going to pretend to not be a stone-cold bitch for the next five minutes.
“Here you go,” she says over the loud hum of conversations all around. “You look like you could use a double,” she says, staring at my face.
My hand instinctively goes to the ugly scar Ghost carved on my face, and I nod.
“Yeah, thank you, Trudy.”
I knock back the shot without a wince and slam the glass down. “One more for medicinal purposes.”
She smiles and refills it, then heads to the other side of the bar to wait on two bikers who just arrived.
“Cheers,” Nova whispers in my ear, and I hold my body stiff to avoid the shiver caused by his nearness and masculine smell.
“Back atcha.” I turn to face him, and we both slam the shots back. Mine gives me a little shudder.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I say and remind myself not to let the swirls of blue and green in his eyes make me forget that I can’t trust him. But he is trying to help me, and he’s really nice to look at.
Really, really nice.
He walks toward a table occupied by three chatting women. Or were chatting because the moment we arrive, all conversation stops.
“Ladies,” Nova says with a friendly smile, and each woman returns one in kind, looking at me expectantly.
“This is Maggie,” he says, “and she’s going to be staying in the back room until she’s feeling better.”
A woman with big blue eyes and chestnut brown hair stands and extends her hand. “Hi, Maggie, it’s nice to meet you.” In jeans and a floral blouse, she looks like a suburban mom. “I’m Letty,” she says and turns to her companion. “This is Gia,” she says, indicating a woman with pink hair and perfect eyebrows. “And Miss Preggo here is Kenna.”
Kenna stands with her hand on her belly and says, “Hi,” looking me over. Assessing me. Judging me. “You look like you’ve been through some shit. If there’s anything you need, ask any of us.”
I nod, kinda thrown off by how chill they are. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
“I have the perfect cream for that scar,” the lady called Letty says gently. “It’ll keep the skin soft so it heals and fades faster. If you want,” she adds.
I swallow and stare at each of the three women with heavy suspicion. Why are they being so nice to me? It doesn’t make sense, not when I consider they all likely believe I had a hand in what happened to Viper.