Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The yogurt in the corner of the fridge, I've learned, belongs to Eagle-eye, and no one eats it under threat of keelhauling. I shudder at the thought. Putting someone on a rope behind a bike and then dragging them a few laps around the compound. Wild Child had grinned wide when he told me what it was, but it just sounds gross and terrible to me. I'm just going to assume they're pulling my leg, but knowing what it's like around here, maybe not. So I give the yogurt a wide berth.
Maybe a salad. The guys are all about their meat and potatoes, with a side of meat and a little more meat on the side. They might not think that they need it, but I need a bit more roughage than that. Apparently someone eats veggies, since there's a good supply in the drawer so I can make myself something light. A leftover chicken breast too, which I can slice up and throw in there.
Things have changed. They’re starting to trust me. I look at the kitchen knife as I wash it off to put back on the magnetic rack. I could arm myself with this, and while I wouldn’t have a chance against all of them, I bet I could do some damage first. Viking keeps that thing so sharp it could split hairs. But here I am, hanging out in the kitchen in the Screaming Eagles clubhouse, alone and fixing my own food like I live here.
Don't I? Dad's declared me dead. But is this the future I want? What happens when the guys tire of me? We're having fun now, but it's not like there's a marriage proposal on the way or me becoming their old lady or whatever. Can bikers share an old lady? I have no idea how biker relationships work. I just know I'm not going to be a slut. I mean, no judgment, you do you and all that, but that's not what I want.
“Hey, skank.”
I whirl around. Speaking of sluts and so much for being alone. Standing in the doorway is Janey, in her usual style, an oversized tank top that is probably the only thing she's wearing. She's got her hands on her hips, her head cocked and a cruel expression on her face. Her dire warning to me last time we were alone isn't forgotten, even if I struggle to remember it when the guys are around.
And she's not alone.
Alexis, who's got on a pink crop top and little shorts so tight it's obvious there's nothing underneath smirks as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You must be putting out something fierce to steal the guys away from us. Or let them do some really, really nasty things to you.”
The third one—I think her name's Zoe—has taken the little girl look to a whole new level. She's got her long blond hair in pigtails and the biggest, bluest eyes I've ever seen. She closes the door behind her with an ominous click then looks me up and down with an icy glare. “Don't be ridiculous. They're too good for someone like her. If they stuck their dicks in, they'd wilt.”
Something tells me this is going to get ugly. I could scream, but they'd be on me long before the guys got here. “Listen, I didn't even choose to come here, okay.”
“You think we didn't hear you screaming last night?” Janey comes closer, flanked by the other two. “I don't fucking care why you're here. I warned you a long time ago, and it's time to pay the price. The guys won't hear you. The Isle of Man races are on. You could be dying in here screaming bloody murder and none of those guys would peel themselves off the couch even if they could hear you over the noise.” Her cruel grin widens. “Speaking of which…”
“I'm not looking for a fight, but I will defend myself.” I straighten to my full height, as little as it might be. Along with the first aid training and ballet classes, there were the self-defense classes too. In theory I'm prepared for something like this, but I haven't actually had to use it on real people yet.
Zoe laughs. “Against all three of us? Preppy girl from uptown?”
Alexis gives me a shove. She's stronger than she looks, but I use it to put myself past Janey. Then I fall into a defensive aikido stance. It's the style I remember best.
“Ooh. Fancy. Are you gonna do kung fu?” Janey laughs and Zoe drops into a pretend martial arts stance while she makes a drawn out “Hiiyaah!” noise like some kind of Bruce Lee movie. “We'll see how the guys like you with a couple less teeth.”
Of the three of them, I expected a punch from Zoe the least, but she swings like she's seen a street fight or two.