Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
A million thoughts raced through my head, but I was too angry to speak. I needed a minute to collect my thoughts and get the hell out of there before something came out of my mouth that I would regret. So, I removed my hand from her waist and stormed out the back exit of the bar. The door slammed behind me but not before I heard Kiersten call out my name. I paced back and forth, grumbling curses as I chastised myself for being such a fucking idiot. I didn’t know how long I’d been out there when I heard Shotgun. “Something wrong, brother?”
“You could say that.”
I turned and found him leaning against the exterior wall smoking a cigarette, so I walked over and joined him. He pulled out his pack of smokes from the inside of his cut and offered me one. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“You know how Kiersten got access to our surveillance footage?”
“Oh, yeah. I know all about it.” The end of Shotgun’s cigarette glowed when he took another drag. “I still can’t believe she managed to pull that shit off.”
“Yeah, me neither, but she did. And she saw me on it.”
“Sorry, brother. I don’t see the issue here.”
“Never mind.” I shook my head and grumbled, “It’s not important.”
“This got something to do with the fact you two got a thing going?”
“You know about that, huh?”
“It’s my job to know.” I wasn’t surprised by his response. Shotgun was the club’s enforcer, and it was his job to protect the brothers. To do that, he made it his business to know everything that went on with us, inside the club and out. “Okay, she saw you on the surveillance footage. I figure she saw all of us, so what’s the problem?”
“She said she didn’t know I was a Sinner when we met at the bar.”
“Well, she ever given you reason not to believe her?”
“No, but you gotta admit the whole thing’s a bit of a stretch. I mean, damn, look at the lengths she went to just to meet with us.”
“Yeah, but she came clean about what she’d found on Menace’s laptop and why she’d done it. So, what reason would she have to lie about knowing who you were in that bar? It’s not like fucking a brother was gonna get her foot in the door. If nothing else, it’d hurt her more than it would help.”
Shotgun was right. Kiersten didn’t gain any leverage that night. She never asked me anything about the club or my being a Sinner, and I certainly didn’t bring it up. I wasn’t even wearing my cut. “Damn, you’re right.”
“I usually am.”
“I’m just not good at this shit.” I felt like a complete asshole. I should’ve stopped for two fucking seconds and thought the whole thing through before storming out of the bar like a fucking two-year-old. I ran my hand down my face and groaned. “I knew I’d fuck it up.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. We all make mistakes. I certainly made my fair share with Remington.” He tossed his cigarette and ground it into the dirt with his boot. “Just talk to her. I’m sure you two can sort it out.”
“I showed my ass, brother. Doubt she’s gonna wanna talk to me.”
“Give her some time. She’ll come around.”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t quite ready to admit my mistake, so I lifted what was left of my cigarette and asked, “Mind if I have another?”
When I tossed the butt on the ground, Shotgun handed me another, and I immediately lit it. After taking in a long drag, I leaned my head back against the brick wall and exhaled slowly, letting the smoke billow above us. Shotgun didn’t say a word. He simply stood there with me while I collected my thoughts. Once I was done with my smoke, I tossed the finished cigarette to the ground, then we both started for the back door.
I’d like to say I was feeling better about things as we headed inside, but I wasn’t. Things were going pretty fucking good with Kiersten, better than I could’ve ever anticipated, and I hated that I might’ve screwed it all up by assuming the worst. I expected to walk in the bar and find her mad as an old wet hen, but that wasn’t the case—far from it. Instead, I found her back over at the table with the girls, and she looked like she was having herself a grand ol’ time. They were all laughing and carrying on even more than they were before and were tossing back what looked to be their third round of tequila shots. I was standing there watching them all wince and groan from the burn of the liquor when Lynch came up behind me and asked, “Where’d you run off to?”