Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“What?” I asked, sure I misheard him.
“When you drove in. Did you tear up the grass?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know,” I admitted.
Who cared about the grass?
To that, he shrugged. “I guess I can fix it.”
“It’s kind of dead anyway,” I said, the strange turn in conversation helping more of the anxiety slide away.
“Dormant, not dead,” Perish said.
I was opening my mouth to say something when the door on the side of the garage flew open.
Then there was Fallon striding in with purpose.
Until he saw me on the floor.
“You okay? You get hit?” he asked, making a beeline for me.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Just… anxious,” I clarified.
“Alright. You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Then, can you come inside? Sull’s gonna be asking about you. Can’t be telling him I left your ass on the cold garage floor.”
He offered me a hand, and I let him pull me to my feet. “Sure you’re not hurt?”
“No, I’m okay,” I said, sounding a lot more steady as we moved in through the garage door next to the bar in the common area.
I expected them to have taken Sully to the bathroom or something to treat him.
But he was right there on the couch in the living room, his shirt off, two men standing over him.
I barely even noticed the basin full of bloody water, the bloodstained gauze.
All I could focus on was Sully.
“Hey, baby,” he called, spotting me. “Where are the tacos?” he asked as we drew closer.
And his characteristic calm seemed to break the dams that had been holding back the tears since the parking lot.
“Hey, none of that,” he said, reaching out with his good arm and pulling me until I climbed up on the couch with him, pressing my face into his chest, smelling that peaches and vanilla scent of him that I loved so much. Only now, it was heavily overwhelmed with the metallic scent of his blood.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be as pretty as ever in just a few weeks,” he told me, his hand gliding up and down my back.
“Don’t joke,” I said, sniffling hard, trying to pull it together. I didn’t want to be crying. First, because this wasn’t about me. He was shot. I should be the one comforting him. Second, because, well, I didn’t want to be all weepy in front of his club brothers. “You were shot.”
“And you ran to try to save me,” he said, arm squeezing me. “That was some brave shit, baby girl.”
“Is Valen okay?” I asked, not wanting to talk about me and my one moment of bravery in my whole life.
“Yeah, I talked to him on my way here,” Fallon said. “Aside from getting chewed out by your boss for scaring the dog that was there. We’re gonna have her moved here once the dog gets picked up.”
“You got people there?” Sully asked.
“Yeah, we’re working on it.”
“How’s your shoulder?” I asked. “Perish said it was a through-and-through,” I added. I couldn’t bring myself to look. My stomach roiled at just the idea of looking.
“Just a baby hole,” Sully said. “Like a piercing, really,” he added, dragging a snort out of me.
“Be serious.”
“That’s not really in my wheelhouse,” he countered.
“How is his shoulder really?” I asked, looking at the two men who were treating him: Callow and Dezi.
“Once got a bigger hole in me when a screwdriver went into me.”
“What?” I asked, horrified. “Were you doing a project?”
“If by ‘project’ you mean starting shit with a street gang, then yeah,” Fallon piped in.
“See?” Dezi asked, yanking up his shirt. “Healed up real nice.”
It was a gnarly, puckered pink scar.
But I guess he was alive.
“And his stupid ass only cleaned it with some vodka and slapped a bandage on it,” Fallon explained. “Sully is at least getting actual care.”
“Incoming with the boss lady,” Perish called through the front door.
It was less than a minute before Courtney was led inside with Valen and Voss as escorts.
“Girl, what the hell is going on?” Courtney asked when she zeroed in on me.
“Why don’t you talk to Courtney in my room while we finish up here?” Sully suggested, giving me a little squeeze.
“What can I tell her?” I whispered.
“Go with your instincts,” Fallon answered.
I figured it wasn’t the time to remind him that my instincts often couldn’t tell the difference between being chased by a bloodthirsty beast and having to make a phone call.
“Okay,” I agreed. “You’re sure you’re okay?” I asked, looking at Sully.
“Just kind of pissed our tacos are cold,” he said, giving my wrist a squeeze.
“Call me if you need me,” I demanded before climbing off of his lap and asking Courtney to go into Sully’s room with me.
To talk to her, sure.
But I also got the feeling that the bikers needed to talk as well.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sully
“What the fuck happened?” Fallon asked as soon as Bonnie closed my bedroom door.