Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Fuck.
Did anything slip past this man?
I stepped off the bottom step, coming around the wall to face Travis. His eyes held annoyance, but he didn’t say anything. He just crooked a finger at me and turned on his heel, a silent order for me to follow him.
The olive-skinned guy didn’t even spare me a glance as he turned away and moved down the hall.
When I stepped into the kitchen behind Travis, I instantly spotted a woman at the stove. Her back was turned to me. She had graying hair, and she was a bit shorter than I was.
She turned to face us when we entered the kitchen. She looked to be in her late fifties, possibly early sixties. She had blue eyes that were full of a lot more life than anyone else’s around here that I had come across so far.
She moved around the island in the center of the kitchen and wrapped Travis up in a hug. Surprising me, he hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before stepping back from her. “I didn’t know you were back home, boy. Did they get that girl you were looking for?”
And I was supposed to trust this bitch to cook my fucking food?
Travis clenched his jaw. He was obviously still pissed off about the guys’ mistake. “No; instead, they got this girl, “he said, waving his hand in my direction. The gray-haired woman looked over at me, a frown pulling at her lips. “She doesn’t even look like her.” Travis shook his head. “I’m working on cleaning the situation up.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
The woman shook her head also. She then turned to me. “Are you hungry, dear?”
I just stared at her, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t lash out at both of them. Travis glared at me. “She asked you a fucking question,” he snapped.
God, grant me strength—and not physical.
I glared back at him before turning my attention to the woman that had been cooking. “Yeah,” I grumbled. I really didn’t trust her to cook my food, but I didn’t trust anyone else here, either. So, I would just have to eat and hope for the fucking best. Always knew my time on Earth was limited anyway with me being the Bloody Royals MC’s president’s daughter.
“Watch over her while I get some shit straightened out,” Travis told her.
He walked out of the room without waiting for an answer.
Dick.
She went to the stove to cook me something to eat, and I sat on a stool at the marble bar. Everything in this kitchen was spotless. How in the hell did you keep a kitchen spotless? The kitchen back at the clubhouse looked like a war zone ninety-nine percent of the time. It was the only room in the clubhouse we couldn’t ever seem to really keep clean.
“Are you the only woman here?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No. There are other women here. They keep the boys happy.”
So, I’m guessing they’re the equivalents of club whores.
“Were they kidnapped, too?” I bluntly asked her.
She looked at me over her shoulder. “No, dear. You’re the only person they’ve kidnapped, and it wasn’t even supposed to be you, but I’m sure you already know that.” She obviously liked to talk. “The girl that was supposed to be kidnapped is in an abusive situation, and she contacted Travis a couple of weeks ago for help. Travis made plans to help her out of it, but Luke and Ryan screwed it up.” She sighed. “And now, they’re going to catch heat for you being kidnapped instead.”
He had no fucking clue who I was. None of them did.
I smirked. Being the Bloody Royals MC’s princess might finally have another perk.
I frowned at her. “Did they know why they were kidnapping her?” Didn’t make sense to me that they kidnapped a girl to help her but then locked her in a fucking basement.
Grace shook her head. “No one but Travis knew what the real reason was. None of this came to light until earlier when he saw you.”
I studied her as she continued cooking. She still didn’t seem to recognize me. None of them did. And if the two men who’d kidnapped me were regulars at doing this kind of shit—or any illegal shit, really—they should have definitely recognized me.
“Maybe you should have Travis do a background check on me,” I told her. “Trust me, my people aren’t going to call the cops to get help. They’ll come find me themselves, and when they do, you’d better pray for everyone involved.” Her face paled a tiny bit at my words. “Anyone involved in my kidnapping will not make it out alive,” I warned her.
My dad, James Holland, was an outlaw legend, as was the Bloody Royals MC. They had murdered more people than I could count. My dad had his fingers dug in pies all around the country with connections that ran so deep, none of his members ever served real time for their crimes.