Whiskey (Iron Rogues MC #5) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Iron Rogues MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
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Seeing as how MCs usually adhered to our own brand of justice, we sometimes worked outside the laws of the land. So strangers were always regarded with suspicion until they proved themselves. It was a big part of why we only worked on referral, another reason anyone asking for me wouldn’t be using my given name.

The man wore jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt with a logo so faded I couldn’t make it out. His hair was greasy, he had a day’s worth of growth on his face, and his eyes…they were a little glassy and his pupils were dilated. Shit. The fucker was high.

“Who the fuck are you?” I growled as I ambled up to the counter to stand next to Dahlia. I gently pushed her behind me and stood in a wide stance with my arms crossed over my chest.

The man’s eyes landed on my tatted biceps, and he swallowed hard. But the drugs must have given him courage because he lifted his chin and glared at me.

“I’m Kenny. I’m here for my daughter.”

“The fuck?” I snapped.

“You have my baby. Laura’s baby. I’m her father.”

I took a menacing step forward, and he gulped but stood his ground.

“The fuck you are,” I snarled, my scowl causing him to back up a step. “There was no father listed on the birth certificate.”

“Well…uh…Laura and I had a…uh, falling out. And she was just being a bitch—”

Before he could say anything else, I was around the desk and had my hand around his throat. “Think very hard about what you say next, asshole.”

Since he couldn’t talk while I was choking him, I eased up my grip.

“She was mad at me, okay? I was shocked when she turned up pregnant, and I didn’t…uh…handle it well. But I’m here to get her now.”

“Get who?”

“My daughter.”

My eyes narrowed. “Tell me her name.”

Kenny looked panicked for a moment, and I used my hold on his neck to shove him toward the door. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t come back.”

“I have a lawyer. He’s gonna get a judge to order a paternity test.”

I’d turned my back on him, but his words halted my steps, and I pivoted around. I wasn’t sure what his rights would be if he was proven to be Corinne’s sperm donor, so I probed a little more. “Why now?” I asked curiously.

“I just found out about her.”

“How?”

“My deal”—he stopped suddenly, realizing that telling me his dealer was his source was probably a really stupid idea—“um…this guy we both knew. He told me about Laura and that some rich-looking chick was asking around about the baby’s family.”

And there it was…a rich chick.

“I found out who they gave her to and asked around about you.”

Which means he’d looked into me and figured out I had money.

“What do you really want?” I sneered. “Stop acting as if you give a shit about my little girl.”

Kenny blinked, and I could practically see how hard his sluggish mind struggled to work through his thoughts.

“I might be willing to give up my rights,” he drawled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “To, you know, give her a better life.”

My jaw clenched hard as I silently seethed, doing everything in my power not to kill the fucker. “For how much?” I gritted out.

“A hundred grand.”

That was all she was worth to him? How could he ask for so little? I would give every penny I had to keep my girls safe. But I was pretty sure this asshole was no threat, and after years of bailing out Laura, I was sick of my money going up someone’s nose or through a needle.

However, I’d consult a lawyer after I took out the trash.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I growled. “My baby girl isn’t for sale. Stay the hell away from us, or you’re gonna find yourself facing down with the Iron Rogues.”

“We’ll just see about that,” he muttered before turning and practically running out of the shop.

I stood there for a minute, trying to call the fuck down, but I was itching to go after the guy and put a bullet in his skull.

“Why don’t you go call Nevada,” Dahlia suggested softly.

Nevada was the club secretary, but he was also our lawyer. “Yeah,” I muttered, turning around and marching back to my office.

After explaining the situation to him, he was silent for a few seconds, then grunted, “Honestly? Just pay the motherfucker.”

“He won’t come back for more?”

“I’ll draw up the paperwork to sever his rights, and we’ll get him to sign before you give him a dime. Legally, there will be nothing he can do after that.”

“Doesn’t guarantee he won’t show up later and stir up shit unless I pay him again,” I argued.

“Which is why you, Fox, Mav, and a couple of other enforcers take the paperwork to him. Make sure he understands just exactly who he’s trying to fuck with.”



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