Property of Drex #2 Read Online C.M. Owens (Death Chasers MC #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Crime, Dark, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Death Chasers MC Series by C.M. Owens
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
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“You can go back if you want to. He won’t mind.”

I snort derisively. “He sent me away for a reason. And he didn’t even bother saying goodbye. And last I checked, most of you assholes want me dead if the mood strikes you right.”

Guilt flashes across his face, and he looks down.

“A team will be there later. Need cash?”

I shake my head. “Paying my own way now. Thanks though.”

Turning around, I load up just as the second bus appears, but Dash is pulling me back off the bus again. Do I have to rip his damn balls off to prove a point?

“Bus is not happening,” he tells me. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Chapter 12

EVE

Two weeks alone in a shitty motel room will definitely make you contemplate your life decisions. At least this place also gave me a job cleaning rooms. I get to stay here full time, order takeout, and watch static-ridden television. Yay me.

I also get to stare at my phone too much, waiting on Drex to call and check on me. But he never does. I get to think about all the times he made me feel something, and then remember how quickly we were done.

The longest I’ve gotten out was when I got my birth control shot renewed. Not that it seems to matter anymore. On a side note, that was a weird escort service for the older, buff, long-bearded biker who drove me there and sat in the waiting room… which had walls full of diagram posters with the inner workings of a woman’s womb, vagina, and breasts.

He actually asked me if it was a game to find the g-spot on the vagina diagram… Like it was Where’s Waldo or something. And he was studying it like he was serious while stroking his beard pensively.

Good times.

I’m back to being empty… Back to making it through the day in hopes of finally living tomorrow. But tomorrow is another day I’m just killing time. It’s even more depressing after you’ve had something you actually wanted but didn’t realize the value of it at the time. Isn’t that the way it goes? You think something’s wrong for you until it’s gone, then you’re miserable without it?

In my head, I always knew it was temporary. But my head and heart are never on the same team. At least when I’m alone in my room no one gets to see me crying over the asshole. And no one gets to see how utterly devastated and lost I feel.

Not because I don’t have him, even though it’s a big part of it. I just feel disconnected and alone. It’s like I don’t fit in here anymore, and I don’t fit in there either. It’d be nice if there was somewhere in the middle where I did fit in. Somewhere in an alternate reality where Drex and I could have something real and untainted, yet dangerous and exciting.

On the bright side, nothing has happened. Which is awesome. My family is safe, and no one from that world has contacted me. The Death Dealers staying two rooms down haven’t even looked my way, even though I know they’re watching my every move. To keep me safe? Or to make sure I don’t spill the beans? Good question.

I think with Drex, it’s to keep me safe. I think for the rest of the club, it’s to keep me quiet.

A light knock at my door has me putting down my cheap wine and peeking out the tiny hole. Ah hell. Why oh why did I jinx myself?

“Eve Marks, we know you’re in there. We just need to ask you some questions.”

“Guess what, I don’t have to answer any questions. Go harass someone else,” I call through the door.

Never thought I’d see the day where I was back-talking federal agents.

They pound on the door a little harder. “We’ll speak to the owner of this establishment and let him know you’ve been involved with a known criminal. Heard you got a job here and are living here, Ms. Marks. It’d be a shame to lose that.”

Assholes.

Cursing, I prop my phone up on the bed and start recording. No way am I taking any risks. Then I open the door, but I block them from coming in and seeing the phone.

“What?” I ask, aiming for badass, but just sounding bitchy. That works for me.

The two young guys who showed up that first night are staring at me with amused, somewhat triumphant expressions.

“Drex Caine dumps his girls in a place like this, huh?” the one on the right drawls.

“Drex Caine has nothing to do with my living arrangements or me. What do you want?”

“Answers. Lots and lots of answers to lots and lots of questions. Otherwise your employer-slash-landlord will know of your involvement with the Death Dealers.”

“Let me summarize my knowledge for you boys,” I say sweetly. “I don’t know anything about Drex Caine other than how he fucks and how he likes his dick sucked.”



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