Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 126215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to ask. I’m offerin.’ And I don’t take no for an answer,” he said firmly with a hint of machoness. “What’s your address?” he asked.
I didn’t even try to argue. He was saving me from not only Zane’s wrath and indifference but also the remainder of my physical labor. I rattled off my address.
There was a pause at the end of the line. “Hello? Lucky, have you changed your mind?” I asked with a hint of sadness.
“No, sorry. Just didn’t realize you lived there, that’s all,” he said in a weird tone. “I’ll be there with Betty soon.”
To say the week had been shit would be an understatement. The only reason Bull made it through was thanks to morning beer and evening Jack. He stayed at the club. He couldn’t risk it. Going home, seeing her. Fuck, catching a glimpse of her would shatter his resolve. So he needed to keep his distance. Build up his defenses. Remember the reasons to stay the fuck away. Not that he needed to remember. They were there in the back of his mind. In the front of his dreams. It wasn’t the bad ones that were the worst either. Not the images of her battered, broken body. Nor the description of what those maggots had done to her. No. It was the good memories. The ones of her smiling. Laughing. Of her living life. Of them living life together.
It’s what haunted him.
His mind snapped back into the present as Lucky walked into the bay, grinning into a cellphone.
“Yes, it’s finally ready. You can have Betty back.”
Bull pushed away from the car he was working on to stand stiffly as Lucky leaned on it.
There was a pause; obviously he was listening to the other end of the conversation and his grin widened.
“Well, since you sound like you’ve got your hands full with whatever you’re doing, how about I come over, drop the car off and see if I can lend a hand?” His eyes had a glint in them, one Bull knew too well.
His fists clenched to his sides and he felt fury ball up in his belly. He didn’t hear what Lucky said next, on account of the fact he was trying his hardest not to rip the phone out of his brother’s hand and put his fist through his face.
Lucky’s grin was quickly wiped from his face as he made eye contact with Bull. He stared at him for a moment before jerking and speaking into the phone. He took it from his ear and then turned to face Bull.
“That was Mia,” he explained.
“Fuckin’ gathered that,” Bull ground out through gritted teeth. He figured that fact out when they were talking about the stupid fuckin’ name she had for her car. Stupid and also cute as fuck. He also gathered his brother was trying to get in there. With her. His jaw twitched at the thought.
Lucky regarded him. “You didn’t mention she lived across the street from you,” he said slowly.
Bull was silent.
“That got anything to do with the fact you seem to have taken up permanent residence at the clubhouse?” he continued casually.
“That’s none of your fuckin’ business,” Bull snapped.
Lucky nodded. “Fair enough, brother. But Mia? I’m pretty darned intent on making her my business,” he started in an easy tone.
Bull didn’t think, he just charged. And all of a sudden he had Lucky by the shirt collar and had slammed him up against the car. “You do not fuckin’ touch her,” he barked at him.
Lucky’s eyes bulged, but he made no move to fight back. Which was good. Bull was hangin’ on by a fuckin’ thread.
“What the fuck’s going on here? Bull, Jesus Christ,” he heard Cade exclaim from beside him. He felt pressure on his shoulder, Cade trying to pull him off.
Lucky glanced to the side. “No worries, we’re cool.” His eyes moved back to Bull. “You laying claim to her brother?”
Bull didn’t even think before he responded. “She’s mine,” he declared through gritted teeth.
Silence seemed to hang in the air after this declaration. He abruptly released Lucky and turned to see Asher and Steg staring at him from the edge of the bay. Their faces were blank. He ignored them.
Without a second glance, he strode off, toward his bike.
“Do you think he’ll shoot me if I go and deliver her car?” he heard Lucky ask before he was out of earshot.
I leaned against the frame of the garage door, trying not to burst into tears. This was not because I had ravaged my body with physical exertion. I did have to commence the rest of the box moving without the help of a muscly biker, thanks to him being a no show. No. My thinly restrained waterworks were due to something else entirely.
Lexie and I had done a pretty good job of converting our garage into a band rehearsal stage. The aesthetics part was done, which meant Lexie had to test the acoustics, whatever that meant.
She was currently singing and strumming her guitar, playing Cat Power’s “The Greatest.” I had heard Lexie sing before. Multiple times. I knew she was good. Great, in fact. I had no idea where the songbird gene came from, considering I was tone deaf, but man, my girl had pipes.
But this song, this moment, her singing choked me up. Maybe because I was filled to the brim with pride. Her beautiful, vulnerable voice singing a hauntingly beautiful song with such emotional power pierced me deep. It made me think of a time when my ambitions, my hopes for my future were high, when I believed in fairytales and happy ever after’s. When I naïvely believed I had found my own. And when that dream had been shattered, along with my jaw. That my life, our life, was a precarious house of cards that depended on my ability to disappear.
Her voice trailed off and the soft strum of the guitar slowly faded out.
Lexie stared at me as if she hadn’t just made my heart swell with pride and punctured my soul with those words. “Did it sound okay?”