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)
Gabriel nods. “I’ll keep my head down, and gas is on the house.” He holds up the bills the Unwashed left. “This should more than cover it.”
"Fuck that shit," growls Badass and hands him more cash. "You earned it. Keep the change."
A half hour later, we're in Eagle-eye's office. It doesn't matter how many fucking times I'm in front of him, that one chalk-white eye is always going to make me shiver. It's like it can see right fucking through you.
Grizzled and gray, and well up in his fifties, he's the undisputed president of the Screaming Eagles MC. Built like a bull and meaner than a badger, he’ll keep that position for a long time yet. Even if someone wanted to challenge, they wouldn't fucking dare. Anyone who fucks with him, fucks with all of us.
King, his second in command, leans against the wall, his big arms crossed over his chest. "I don't fucking like the sound of this."
I nod. “That’s why we came straight here. Something’s up.”
"The Unwanted have been fucking around at the edges of our territory for a while now," Eagle-eye's gravelly voice crunches. "This just confirms my suspicions. They're pushing closer and growing faster than they've got any fucking right to.”
King frowns. “I’ve heard rumors they've started holding auctions at their clubhouse."
"Auctions?" Animal raises a scar-split eyebrow curiously. "The fuck? Like art or some shit?"
Eagle-eye's white eye rolls as well as his good one, but it's creepy to watch it fucking move like that. "Not unless you can snort art. Product. Guns. Fenced shit. For years they’ve been selling out of their chop shop, but then something changed. Someone's backing them, and I want to fucking know who. The Unwanted are a bunch of useless fuckers, and there hasn’t been a change in leadership, so my money is on someone using them to get at us."
"So what's the plan?" asks Badass with enough viciousness in his voice that Jupiter, Eagle-eye's boxer, raises his head from the dog bed in the corner where he's been sleeping. When nobody calls him and no treats emerge, he lowers his muzzle back to his paws and shuts his eyes again.
Eagle-eye looks over at King, and they nod at each other. "You want a plan? Fine. You three just volunteered for fucking duty. How’d you like a promotion?"
"Sweet, I’ve always wanted to be middle management," Animal jokes.
Eagle-eye pushes away from his desk and gets up to start pacing. "Fucking wonderful. Here's what I want you fuckers to do."
4
NATALIE
They gave me four inch fuck-me heels, a black tank top that reads "Unwanted" in big, iron-on gold letters on the front, a push-up bra that squeezes my boobs up under my chin and a skirt that barely reaches below my butt. No panties—not that I'd want to wear any that they gave me.
My face stares back at me from the massive, dirty mirror across from an even dirtier bed in the room they threw me in last night. Everything smells like stale sweat and sex, and the shag rug crunches when I walk on it. I’m pretty sure this is the room they use to—ugh.
Instead of the bed, I spent the night curled up on the ratty couch with a coil poking my butt. I really, really want to just curl up somewhere and cry, but I’m not going to give these monsters the pleasure.
“Get the fuck out here,” Crusher yells from the other room. “You think you’re a fucking princess getting ready for the ball?”
No, not unless one of the cockroaches is going to turn into my fairy godmother and get me the hell out of here. Stomach in my throat, I mince into the next room. Crusher and a bunch of other men are waiting. Some I recognize as the guys that brought me here, and some I’ve never seen before.
“Not bad. Good tits, nice ass.” Crusher inspects me like a sex doll he ordered off the internet, his groping hands roaming over my body. I try not to show him how much I hate it because I’m pretty sure that just makes him more excited, but I can’t help flinching when he slips a hand between my thighs. A few of the men laugh.
“You’re jumpy as a fucking virgin,” Crusher scoffs.
That hits a little too close to home. I stare at my shoes and tug at the bottom of my skirt.
“No fucking way! You’re what? Twenty?”
“Two,” I whisper. “Twenty-two.”
“Shit, I wish we knew last night. Virgins make for shitty whores. Woulda been fun breaking her in,” one of the other bikers jokes. At least I hope it’s a joke.
An older guy glances up from his phone. “People pay for a virgin.”
Crusher gets a cunning look on his face that scares the heck out of me. He puts his hand on my throat and pushes me against the wall, pinning me like a bug. “I was gonna have the sluts do up your makeup and shit, but a virgin? Yeah. I like that. A real girl next door type.”