Vodka on the Rocks Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Uncertain Saint’s MC, #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Uncertain Saint's MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
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“That’s my food!” The man bellowed. “Right here. Bring it here. We were first.”

I clenched my hands into fists as the man got up and started waving his hands over our food. “Bring it to me.”

When he went to grab Tasha’s food, Tasha moved the plate over to keep him from reaching it.

And the man backhanded her.

The blow barely grazed her cheek, but it was enough.

I saw red.

I grabbed the man around the throat and threw him down on the ground.

He hit so hard that I heard his head crack against the concrete.

The breath whooshed out of him.

“You did not,” I slammed my fist into his face. “Just hit.” Slam. “My woman.”

I hit him so hard that his cheek crunched. Followed by his nose. Then I moved to his torso.

Nothing was off limits.

I was delivering the beating of a lifetime to the little bastard. One that, obviously, his parents had never given him, seeing as he had no manners to speak of.

“Ten,” Tasha’s soft voice cried, “let him up. The police are pulling in, and I don’t want you to get arrested.”

I pushed off of the little punk, then gave him one last kick to the ribs before I moved away and sat back down in my seat.

My knuckles were bloody, so I wiped them off as best as I could with my linen napkin and grabbed my steak knife, slowly cutting into my prime rib as I watched the little fucker struggle to roll over from the corner of my eye.

Tasha sat as well, picking up my cue, and slowly started to cut into her own steak.

She chewed methodically, but she kept casting wary glances at the man who was still laying on the floor.

The restaurant around us slowly started to pick back up to life, and everyone turned their heads back to their own tables, completely ignoring the man.

The woman who’d been with him was gone, though.

No sign of her.

Good.

She didn’t need to be there with him anyway.

Fucker needed to learn a lesson.

Hopefully, I’d given him something to chew on…other than the teeth that I’d knocked out.

“What happened here?” a burly police officer asked as he made his way into the restaurant.

He dropped down to the man’s side on one knee and immediately cuffed him when everyone in the room pointed at the offender.

“He hit that woman in the face over some food!” one old man crowed.

I finished up my last bite of steak, then leaned back to dip my roll in the delicious cinnamon butter, watching as Ridley took statements.

My sister was directly behind him on the other side, talking to the old man that was yelling about the little cunt on the floor hitting Tasha.

My eyes flicked to hers and I ground my teeth.

I could clearly see another bruise forming on her cheek, and I was getting pissed off even after releasing some of my tension by beating the shit out of the man.

Ridley and CeeCee finally made it to our table, and my sister looked at my finished steak with interest.

“No,” I stated firmly.

“But…” she whined.

“You’re on a diet, remember? That means no prime rib,” I told her.

She grimaced.

My sister was training for a half marathon, and according to her, she wanted to do it ‘right.’ Whatever the fuck ‘right’ was. I’d have just kept eating what I wanted to eat and then trained twice as hard.

Apparently, though, women couldn’t ‘do that.’

Not that all the alcohol I’d seen her consume the night before had been in her ‘allowed for training’ diet.

“Shut up,” CeeCee whined. “Why are you beating on poor men that can’t defend themselves?”

My eyes narrowed and Ridley sighed.

“He’s not pressing charges, but you need to be more careful about where you do this. There are probably five to ten videos going up on YouTube as we speak,” Ridley chastised.

I shrugged. “I don’t really give a fuck. He hit Tash in the face.”

Ridley’s crude eyes moved swiftly to study Tasha’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re going to need some ice.”

“I’ve got some for her,” our waitress popped up. “Thank you. You have no idea how bad that could’ve gotten. He comes in once a week and does the exact same crap.”

I nodded. “I saw him in here before a couple of months ago. Wasn’t very pleasant then, either.”

“Was that your date with Freya?” CeeCee asked.

Of course, it was an innocent question, but I had two sets of eyes narrow quickly onto me with the intensity of death rays.

Tasha’s were calculating, wondering whether the date had meant anything.

Ridley’s were sharp and seething.

Ridley had a crush on Freya. Freya had a crush on Ridley. It was all very juvenile, but Ridley felt he owed something to his deceased wife, so he didn’t date. Nor did he have any hookups, random or planned.

It was frustrating as fuck to watch him and Freya circle around each other.



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