Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Then his temper tantrum started. More throwing shit, more yelling before he finally stormed out.
Child. He’s a fucking child.
But despite the foul words, the cruel life I lived, my survival, my self-preservation, has me holding on. It gives me hope, and is the reason I am still alive.
Three loud raps land on the bathroom door, and I jump on instinct.
“Get your ass out here. The bar’s getting packed and people need to eat.”
I close my eyes and breathe out. Fucking Rick. The owner of this piece-of-shit dive bar is almost as big of an asshole as Einstein.
I turn and open the door, the rock music no longer muffled from the closed door and slamming into me. Although smoking is no longer legal inside the bar, because of the years it had been, that stench is forever engrained in the stained walls.
And as I walk out into the crowded bar filled with yet more drunken assholes, the only thing on my mind is the man waiting back at home with chains keeping him prisoner.
My life is fucked.
I make my way to the bar and grab a tray, setting the drinks on it and making my rounds throughout the room. I dodge several ass slaps, ignore the lewd comments, and then go back to the bar to do the same thing over and over again.
I take a few food orders, give them to the kitchen, and then step back and take a breather. I stare at the patrons, at the grungy, disgusting men who are tossing back drinks, their greasy hair and faces matching their stained shirts and torn pants. Most of the men who come here work at the coal mine, coming here day in and day out after they clock out, getting drunk before they go back to their shitty little lives and their wives who know what pieces of shit men they are saddled with, but they had no other options.
Just like me.
Just like everyone in this fucking town.
But like everyone else, we all keep surviving, keep moving forward. Then again, most people don’t have an MC member chained up in the basement of their house, his cold, hardened eyes tracing their every movement.
They also don’t have to wonder if they’re terrified … or if arousal is at the forefront.
But I know… and it scares the shit out of me.
Chapter Eight
Ride
“He hit you.”
I look at the girl and wait for her to respond, to react to what I said. I didn’t do anything more than state the obvious.
“Wasn’t the first time, won’t be the last,” she says so matter-of-factly I have the strongest urge to shake her, to make her see reality. I don’t know her, but does she think this is a good life? Why in the fuck is she here if this is what she lives with day in and day out?
“You have to help me get free.”
She shakes her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have to help you do a damn thing. In fact, I’d venture to say helping you get free will mean my death, mister.”
“You help me get out of here and I can protect you,” I promise her.
Her cool gaze moves over me, and I can see she’s sizing me up. I can also tell she doesn’t trust me for shit. She’s wise not to. Most of the time, I’ll blow up shit just to get something to stick and then get my revenge. This time, however, I am completely serious. I will protect her. The bastard who waylaid me and hit her needs to die. His death would protect her, so in that respect, I’m not lying.
“I can’t take a chance. It’s not just me who would pay the price if things blew up. Besides, I don’t know you, and I can’t trust you. I’m not stupid. I know you’re one of the Scorpions. Why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be just like Einstein.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult the fuck out of me,” I growl, unable to keep the anger and frustration out of my voice.
“Whatever. Here’s some food. I have to get Mama settled and get ready for work,” she mumbles, her gaze avoiding mine.
I watch her walk away, but I do it knowing she let some very important information out this time.
Einstein.
I now know who’s behind this shit. Einstein is a small-time junkie who tried to pedal his meth in our territory. We should have killed him and instead opted to teach him a lesson so we wouldn’t draw the attention of the state police. I have a few guys on the inside, and the county pretty much turns a blind eye, but I don’t need shit breathing down my back right now, when we’re about to do some major expanding when it comes to club business.