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)
Judge snorted again. “Even if they walked in sweet and innocent, they certainly wouldn’t be walkin’ out that way. There’s a certain type of woman who can deal with a bunch of bikers. From what I remember, it ain’t easy and I got no fuckin’ clue why they’d want to put up with all that bullshit in the first place.”
Judge was right. Trip remembered the sweet butts not only getting fucked whenever and wherever by whoever, he remembered them getting knocked around and knocked up. Though if the last happened, that problem was swiftly taken care of or the woman was never seen again.
If she insisted on keeping a baby that a brother didn’t want or didn’t know who the baby daddy was? She was banned from the club. And she was going to raise that kid all on her own. She knew that coming in and knew that when she was kicked back out.
None of those brothers wanted to claim a kid by a patch whore.
Fuck.
That brought back a memory Trip had tried hard to forget. He might have been about five at the time.
A sweet butt had lied about being on the Pill and got knocked up on purpose, trying to become an ol’ lady. Three brothers cornered her inside the warehouse and kicked the shit out of her until she miscarried.
Trip remembered her screaming, crying, begging and then afterward, the fucking blood... All that fucking blood...
Jesus fuck.
Yeah, he was drawing that line and nobody—none of them—better cross it. He would not tolerate that shit.
Trip rapped his knuckles on the table and stood. He needed to get the fuck out of there. His throat was closing, and his heart was beginning to race. “Think about it,” he told Rook again.
Judge was slower getting up. When the tall man was on his feet, he planted both fists on the table and leaned toward Rook. “Like he said, think about it. But you’re either in or out, Rook. We ain’t doin’ shit half-assed.”
We.
Damn, that sounded good.
“When you gettin’ sprung?” Trip asked Rook as he rose to his feet, too.
“Got another twenty-eight days.”
“Let Cage or Dutch know ASAP. Only gonna hold a room for you so long.”
Rook nodded, then said, “Might have a prospect for you.”
“More the better,” Judge said.
Not necessarily. Trip was hoping for quality over quantity, but he wanted to hear Rook out first. “Who?”
“One of my cellies, Dodge. Gettin’ out a few days before me.”
“How’d he get the name Dodge?”
“Born in the back seat of one.”
Made sense. “What’s he in for?”
“It matter?”
“Depends. Think he can keep his shit clean or at least under the radar? Need members who aren’t spendin’ months or years at a shot in shitholes like these. Need bodies, need hands, need numbers, but all of those need to be worthwhile. Get me?”
“Yeah, I get you. Thinkin’ he’ll fit good. Got a sled, needs a bit of work, but that’s all he’s got. Nothin’ else. No place to land. If he got that, he should be able to stay outta places like this. Father and uncle were Shadow Warriors. They disappeared a couple years ago. He hasn’t heard from either since. Two years ago, his mother was found raped, beaten and dead in a crack house. He’s got no one.”
“He got issues?” Trip asked.
“We all got issues,” Rook muttered.
That was too damn true.
Rook continued, “He had my back in here, would like to return the favor. You give ‘im a place to belong and I’ll fix up his sled as soon as I get out. Think he’ll be loyal and he’s a good one to have at your back.”
“If he’s willin’ to prospect for six months, then let me know when he’s out. I’ll get someone to come pick up his ass and get ‘im settled.”
Rook nodded. “You take him in, you got me.”
Trip nodded. “Deal, brother.”
Trip held out his palm and Rook slapped his in it and they bumped shoulders over the table making the screws shit their pants.
Trip and Rook quickly parted before one of the guards manhandled them. If one of them touched him, it might make Trip flip the fuck out, turning a productive meeting into a shit show.
Grinning, Rook turned to Judge. “I’d give you a kiss, big boy, but pepper spray makes me cry. So, I’ll blow you one instead.” He made kissy faces at Judge then laughed when Judge gave him the bird. “See you on the outside,” he yelled as he got escorted out of the visitor center.
Chapter Seventeen
Trip’s nose nuzzled the hair by her ear. “Baby?”
She pretty much knew what was coming next. Every morning for the last three weeks, this was how he woke her up.
With sex. Then he followed it up by making her breakfast.
She had to admit, the breakfast was great. But the sex was even better.