Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Hard.
Chapter 2
When you think you’re in love, listen to your heart and not your dick. It doesn’t often lead you astray.
-Note to self
Griffin
This town fucking sucked.
It was the backwoods, ball sack of Texas, and, most of the time, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from this place.
But occasionally the place had its moments.
I’d been assigned to the county when I’d signed on with the Texas Rangers, and would probably be here for a long fucking time.
I’d sold my house after I found out I’d be relocating, and I was still living out of a box, even though I’d been in the small town of Uncertain for over a year now. The only thing that’d been unpacked had been the kitchen stuff and Tanner’s room, even though he only visited every other weekend.
I’d yet to see why this little stretch of highway even needed a Texas Ranger, seeing as the area had about five hundred people total, and not a single city hall among the four towns that I covered.
Uncertain was the quietest of the four towns, which was why I’d chosen it over the larger ones.
My soul needed time to heal after the divorce from hell.
Then I needed it even more, six months later, after going to the crime scene where Tanner’s body had been discovered.
The peace here was like none other.
Seeing Tanner like that, broken and so damn cold had marked me in a way that I knew I’d never recover from.
God, I could still remember the way his cold skin felt in my hands, how it felt like ice.
I viciously shut that line of thought down.
There would be no going down that path tonight.
“That was something,” an amused male voice said from behind me.
I looked up to find three men dressed in leather at my back.
I’d heard them walk up, but I didn’t think they’d bother me while I was taking care of the other asshole.
“Yeah,” I said, hauling the man up and shoving him back into his car.
He was knocked out cold and probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning.
Not that I cared if he remembered or not.
The fucker deserved to know what would happen to him if I caught him giving it to a woman who kept saying no.
A woman, who I noticed, was no longer there.
A woman who looked quite a bit like the red head from the sex store yesterday.
“We haven’t seen you lately,” the closest man said.
I raised a brow at him, getting back on my bike.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah,” the man closest said. “We want you to come to church today. We have a few decisions we need to make.”
I laughed.
It wasn’t a nice laugh, either.
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do about that,” I said, walking away from them.
I hadn’t been back to the Saints clubhouse in months…since Tanner’s death.
Which was, if I had to admit, why I was hesitating to go back.
Tanner had loved the Uncertain Saints clubhouse.
He’d loved watching the bikes.
Loved the boys.
Loved the water only a few hundred yards away.
He loved everything about Uncertain, Texas, and hated living with his mom, my ex-wife, Noreen.
But in the State of Texas, it was standard protocol for all children under the age of seven to stay with their mothers, even if their mothers were cheating pieces of shit who would do absolutely anything to stick it to their fathers.
I knew the boys were hurting, just like I was.
Knew they missed my boy nearly as much as I did.
Which was why I finally grew a pair and went to the clubhouse, even though it nearly tore me in half to do so.
Everybody there had a story.
A piece of their life that fucked them up so bad that they wanted to retreat into the darkness.
Which was what our club had grown into.
A group of men who all had their own sob stories.
Each of us had something in common.
Grief, anger and sorrow.
We were all tired of our lot in life…tired of the way the law handled things, or in some cases, didn’t handle things.
It was why the six of us had formed the club.
We were a team, bound together by grief and loss.
Mine story hadn’t been so bad when I’d started. Just a pissed off man that lost his wife to a piece of shit. Now, though…well let’s just say my life was definitely darker after Tanner’s death.
The first person I saw as I entered into what the men had started calling ‘Church’ was Peek, our unofficial ‘president’ of The Uncertain Saints.
He was the owner of three tattoo shops in our area, he was forty-four and a big pain in my ass.
He never let me spend a night alone, and was always there, even when I didn’t want him to be.
The second person I saw was Wolf.
His story was just as bad as mine.
His wife and unborn son were killed by a serial killer who preyed on cops and their families.
His best friend had succumbed to the same serial killer, and now Wolf was raising the best friend’s son, whom he’d adopted just a few short months ago.
The last person in the room was Mig.
His real name was Vitaly, but when he was in the Navy and flying, he’d been nicknamed ‘Mig’ because he was half Russian and a mean motherfucker.
A mig was an enemy aircraft-one that nobody liked to see. Since he wasn’t nice to anybody, he was deemed Mig by his colleagues shortly after arriving.
Mig found it funny, not that he’d admit it, though.
Mig wasn’t much of a talker.
He was a man who knew what needed to be done and just did it….and sometimes showed you how to accomplish it.
Which was what I liked about the man.
He didn’t waste my time with niceties, only got the job done and got out.
“We’re waiting for Casten, and Ridley, then we can start,” Peek said, kicking back in his chair and taking a sip of his beer.
I nodded, taking a seat beside Mig and reaching into the cooler that was built into the middle of the table, and grabbing my own beer.