Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Badass reaches out and closes a hand over mine. “You were what? Eighteen? You did good.”
“Not good enough. When she was fifteen, sixteen maybe, she started getting more secretive than normal. I found out she was seeing some guy that must’ve been in his twenties, probably pushing thirty. I… I flipped out. For the next year, we fought like cats and dogs. She dropped out of school, and started being gone for days at a time, then weeks. I didn’t think it was drugs right away, but she changed.”
“Was that guy her dealer?” Quickshot asks darkly.
“Probably. I didn’t know what to do. She called him her boyfriend, and she was obsessed. I wish I’d handled it better, but I was nineteen and working two jobs. It… it was almost a relief when she left.” A tear slips down my cheek. “I don’t really know what happened between them, but she came back a total wreck, and the cops were going to throw her in jail for some bullshit possession charge until I found out that since she was a minor, she was eligible for a rehab program. Things have been so good since she got out. Not perfect, but good. I swear.”
“How’d she get mixed up with the Unwanted?”
“I don’t know! But I’ve seen her when she’s using, and I swear she isn’t. They said she owed them money and I couldn’t let them take her, could I?”
They don’t look convinced. I probably wouldn’t be in their shoes either, but what can I do?
16
BADASS
"It's showtime," Animal's voice hisses from the two-way radio behind the bar. "Crusher and a couple other assholes are headed my way and they don't look like they want to wait patiently in line. I'm gonna wave them in and follow. Send Crash to take over the door."
"On it." I raise my arm and whistle. Lots of faces turn my way, but the only one that counts is the gorgeous girl carrying a tray near the pool tables. "Move it! We got a special order!"
She freezes for a second, then nods, recognizing the code we set up. Natalie's gotten good at acting her part in public, but until Prez has his sit-down with Cain, I'm not taking my fucking eyes off her. Maybe not after that, either.
"Crash!"
He comes out of the back, adjusting his belt with a girl hanging off his arm. "Still got ten minutes before my shift, man." When he sees my face, though, he stands up straighter. "What's up?"
"Go handle the door. We got club business."
"You got it." He gives me a crisp nod and smacks the girl on the ass. "I'll find you later." She rolls her eyes and melts into the crowd. If it was a lot of our guys, I wouldn't like his odds of making good on that, but somehow Crash always has a line out his fucking door.
Natalie brings her empty tray behind the bar and stands there eyes wide and face pale. "What do I do?"
"First, come here." I cup her ass with one hand and pull her close enough to whisper. "Crusher just showed up with some buddies. They'll be in here any second. We're gonna go say hello."
She shivers.
I nip her earlobe and stroke a hand over her shoulder and down her arm. "He's not going to fucking touch you. You're ours."
"I know our deal," she whispers. "You bought me."
"Look at me," I order, and she turns her big blue eyes to mine. "Screw the deal. He. Won't. Fucking. Touch. You."
The air vibrates between us, and her full lips part. I lean in and take them. She's sweet as sin, and it's not worry that makes her moan.
I sense movement and then there's a figure behind her. It's Animal. We share a look over her shoulder. He nods. His hands land on her bare waist and stroke upwards, under her cropped Screaming Eagles tank, and up to her big, full breasts. Natalie gasps and she puts one hand on my arm, and her other on Animal's.
"Hate to break it up just as it's getting good, but they're headed your way," Quickshot’s voice crackles from the two-way.
Animal sticks his middle finger up towards the bar camera. He drags his nose up the side of Natalie's neck and sinks his teeth lightly into the soft skin under her ear. "Let's go be assholes."
"Remember the word?" I ask. She swallows hard and nods. "Bring drinks to VIP 3. If we can keep them in there we can minimize the chances of this turning into a warzone."
Already I can see Eagles clocking the shift in the mood that follows Crusher and his friends. We don't give a shit who shows up so long as they pay for their drinks and don't cause trouble, but the Unwanted have ruffled a lot of feathers lately.