Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of dancing in those places or free anything.” She rubbed at her temple, pleased to see her street coming up. She couldn’t afford her own car yet, so she constantly had to get rides from Petal. Not that her friend minded.
“It’s going to be fun and wild. We did promise ourselves we would live more dangerously while we’re still in town.”
Rosalie chuckled as she pulled up outside her home. She didn’t look back at her house and focused on her friend. “We said dangerous and wild, not crazy or making stupid decisions. We can’t go there.”
Another eye roll and Petal’s gaze went past her shoulder and she whistled. “Does your mom have a lover you don’t know about?”
“No, why?”
“Because that is one insane bike. Whoever is riding that, I bet is a scary motherfucker. Way to go, Gabby.”
Her mother hated that nickname. Rosalie had tried to get Petal to stop calling her that and once Petal saw how much it upset her, she stopped saying it in front of her.
Rosalie looked behind her and then saw the bike she hated more than anything in the world. She tried not to tense up or show her friend any sign that the bike affected her.
“It’s nothing,” Rosalie said, but she was already climbing out of the car.
“Whoa, Rose, you okay, babe?” Petal asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just better head inside. Call me later and we’ll talk about this MC party thing.”
“Come on, Rose, we’ve got to do something fun. Working at the diner, avoiding his hands is getting old and I’ve already checked. There are no other jobs for us, but there must be more to life than this.”
Rosalie forced a smile to her lips. Right now, she’d say or do anything to get Petal gone so she could go and see what the hell was going on.
“We’ll talk, okay?”
Petal threw her arms up in the air and whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about. Talk to you later, girlfriend.”
Rosalie stayed on her driveway, watching her friend leave and turn off the street, before spinning on her heel and rushing toward her home.
Pulling out her keys, her hands shook so badly. She tried to get her shit together, but she didn’t know how long he’d been here. She should have known there was something going on. The day had been too good. Her mother had been so happy this very morning. Everything had seemed amazing. Work aside, Rosalie had felt hopeful.
It was like he knew when her mother was feeling stronger, happier. He always stopped by to fuck it up. The piece of shit.
Twisting the key into the lock, Rosalie opened the door, being as noisy as possible.
“Mom, I’m home,” Rosalie said. “Sorry I’m late, I had to work at the diner a few extra hours. It was a crazy shift, but someone’s got to do it.”
She closed the door and stepped into the house, knowing he was there somewhere.
Rosalie took a step toward the kitchen and there he was—Daemon. She didn’t even know his last name. Her father. And … the president of the Evil Fuckers MC.
That was why she knew of the club and also why she would insist and try to lure her best friend into something else. Something safe. Something sane.
“Hello, Rosalie,” he said.
His voice was rough and always had a sharp edge to it. He wore his leather cut, but he’d opted for the one that didn’t have any sleeves, which showcased his endless tattoos as well as his muscles. He always did this on purpose.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked.
“Gabby’s in the kitchen.”
Staring at him, she tried to listen for her mother, for any sign that she was okay. With Daemon in their home, nothing was okay. Not until he left. Like so many other times before, she would have to pick up the pieces of the mess he created.
Rosalie had two choices: to stay where she was, keeping a distance between herself and her old man; or risk pissing him off, to go and check on her mother. He clearly didn’t want her to go into the kitchen, which only made her want to check on her mother even more.
Staring at him, she waited, hating him, and then decided Gabrielle was far more important than him.
Big mistake.
He wrapped his fingers around her neck and pressed her up against the nearest wall.
“Are you disobeying me?”
“I want to go check on my mother,” she said, gritting her teeth.
He tutted. “And I’m telling you that you’re not going. You will do as you’re told.” He didn’t cuss and was completely calm. This wasn’t good. This was never a good look. She stared at the man she called her father—well, she didn’t call him that—and wondered what the hell he’d done. The only consolation she had was she couldn’t hear her mother sobbing.