Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Okay, now she was going too far. “Not a bad idea.”
“You think it was funny you were shot at.”
“Wasn’t laughin’ at the time.”
“You’d be happy if I missed you. To do that I’d have to fucking mourn you, asshole.”
“Baby...”
She threw her hands up. “Take me home.”
He bit back the urge to tell her she was home. His house, his farm, was her goddamn home.
He needed to get her out of that apartment and fill it with someone else so she couldn’t use it as an escape.
They needed to deal with this kind of shit head on. Not run from it. “Stella...”
“You could’ve died.”
“Coulda, but I didn’t.”
“Was that job worth it?”
Not yet since he didn’t get the car. But he would. It was just a matter of time. However, what he made on that job wouldn’t cover the cost of the damage. But he was getting that motherfucking car no matter what.
“You don’t fuck with the Shirleys unless you’re giving them something like cash for their moonshine. You can barter with them, buy stuff from them, but taking something from them, like their wheels, will get you killed.”
“Learned that the hard way, babe.”
“Tell me you won’t fuck with them.”
He couldn’t tell her that, but he also couldn’t lie. “Will be more careful in the future.”
She shook her head and moved toward his sled. “I have to go open the bar.”
She was dismissing him, and he didn’t like it, but he’d let it go for now. He needed to get her dropped off and go meet up with Judge at Justice Bail Bonds.
He had work to do, a club to keep building and businesses to run. He’d deal with her later tonight when she was back in his bed.
Because tonight she would be back in his bed.
And every other fucking night from now on.
She might be pissed off, but it was because she was worried about him.
And that right there proved to him that she cared about him as much as he did about her.
That was a good thing.
Trip’s skin crawled as they went through the metal detectors at Lycoming County Prison. They had left their guns, as well as Judge’s big-ass knife back in the safe at the bail bonds shop.
He had sworn to himself he’d never go back to prison and there he was, standing in a goddamn prison.
He hated the smell, the atmosphere and, most of all, hated the fucking screws who guarded the unwilling occupants.
His upper lip curled as they were escorted by one of the out-of-shape screws down the hall towards the visiting area. The buzzing of the doors and the noisy prisoners who could be heard in the distance put his nerves on edge. He felt naked and vulnerable not having his gun, or even a shank, with him.
His chest was tight, and his breathing strained as he followed the pale, wheezing screw, as well as Judge, deeper into the prison.
Fuck this shit. It was a good reminder to keep his ass out of there.
Never fucking again.
In truth, he’d rather die than go back behind bars.
He’d survived his time in the Marines, he survived his time in prison.
Now he was living for himself. No one else was going to tell him what to do. He wouldn’t constantly be on the offensive, worried he might get stabbed, shot at or beaten.
Or even fucked up the ass by a man twice his size.
He’d spent thirty days in the hole after making sure that didn’t happen one day in the showers. Those thirty days were worth keeping his asshole a virgin.
He and Judge hadn’t talked the whole way to Williamsport since they were on their sleds. But as they settled at one of the tables, and after the screw reminded them not to touch Rook or try to give him anything, the man waddled away to stand along the wall with a few more of those uniformed motherfuckers.
Fuck, he hated this place and he hadn’t even been incarcerated here.
“What do you know about the Shirleys?”
Judge’s head pivoted toward him and he cocked a brow. “More than I wanna. Did you—” His booming laugh filled the large room where a shitload of family and friends waited at round tables with hard plastic chairs for the prisoners to arrive. “D’you hafta change your fuckin’ pants after dealin’ with ‘em?
“No, but it was damn close. They shot up my wrecker.”
“That’ll teach ya.”
“Wasn’t a lesson I wanted to learn. ‘Specially since I had one of the local pigs waitin’ for me at the bottom of the mountain, also waitin’ to teach me a lesson.”
Judge shook his head. “The current herd of pigs won’t fuck with you unless you fuck with them.”
“Not plannin’ on fuckin’ with ‘em.”
“You are if you’re goin’ up that damn mountain.”
“One of those Brysons gave me a tip ‘bout snaggin’ the car at Walmart.”