Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You shouldn’t go in there unless you plan on sticking with her this time,” she warns.
“Skylar’s of age now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“She’s been of age for two years,” Trudy counters.
I shrug, not agreeing or disagreeing. “The woman deserves better than me.”
“Then try being a better you,” she grumbles, as if that’s a simple thing to do. “Anyway, take it easy on her. She hides it well, but there’s a mountain of hurt inside of that girl, and it all has your name on it, Joker,” she mutters, slapping my arm as she passes me.
Well, shit.
That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear. It leaves me wondering if Skylar has been telling Trudy all about us. Looks like it might be time to clear the air between the two of us. It has to be done, because I’ve already claimed her in front of one of our sister clubs. There’s no going back now, and honestly, I don’t want to.
I take a deep breath and bite the bullet, walking to Skylar’s door. I turn the knob, but it’s locked. I put my forehead against the door. It’s a good thing she locks it, but damn, I was hoping this would be easier. I should have known that nothing concerning Skylar would be easy. I pull back enough to knock on her door. She doesn’t answer. There’s just silence and I know damn well that she hasn’t had time to fall asleep yet. I knock again, louder this time. “Peaches let me in.” I wait a minute or so and there’s no answer. There’s no one walking around as if to come to the door. At first, I start to get upset. Then another thought hits me. What if she fell or something? The floors in this place are concrete. She might have fallen and hit her head. My woman could be lying on the floor, bleeding and unconscious. Usually, I’m not a man to feel fear, but suddenly it’s firing through me. Pounding on the door one last time, I give it a couple of minutes—okay, maybe just one. When there’s still no answer, I refuse to wait a second longer. If a head wound is bad enough, you could bleed out easily. I’m not letting that happen to Skylar.
I kick on the door. It’s wooden and kind of old. You’d think Wheeler and the boys would invest in better ones. It takes two kicks and me ramming it shoulder first to get it to break off the hinges though, so maybe it was stronger than I gave it credit for. I look around the room frantically, truly expecting to see Skylar unconscious on the floor.
She’s not there. Nope. She comes storming out of the connected bathroom in nothing but a towel, looking like a goddess with water dripping down her exposed skin.
“What the fuck are you doing, Torin?” she snaps, with fire in her eyes that would burn clean through a lesser man.
It might have just scorched a few of my brain cells because the only thing I can get out is three small words. No, not those words. These are words that make me sound like the idiot that I’m currently feeling like.
“You’re not dead.”
Skylar opens her mouth to scream a blistering response—of that much, I’m sure. Suddenly, she surprises me by snapping it closed, biting down on her lip as she fights her rage. She turns and marches back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. I thrust my fingers into my hair, knowing anything that I planned to hash out with the woman tonight might have to be put on hold. I should have expected it. Nothing ever comes easy when it has to do with the feelings I have for Skylar Kane.
Fuck …
Chapter 15
Skylar
I storm back into the bathroom because I’m not sure if I want to scream or throw things at him. Mostly, I have this overwhelming urge to slap the hell out of him. I figure doing that wouldn’t be healthy for either of us, so I escape. I suppose there’s nothing to stop him from doing to this door what he did to the other one. If he tries it, I’ll kill him. As I glance around the small—but usable—bathroom, I see several items that I can use as a weapon, including a pair of scissors. I happen to think they’d look lovely buried in his damn balls. Maybe then he’d learn to stay away from brain-dead bimbos like Debbie.
I dry myself off quickly, wishing that I had brought my pajamas in here. I don’t have many clothes here, but I left a few. It’s just things I don’t wear often. I left them in case I didn’t want to go home after dinner or whatever. It doesn’t happen much, but sometimes if it’s really late, I do it. I hate driving in Cincinnati. They’re always working on the roads here, so traffic can be horrible at any time. I also hate driving at night. Secretly, I despise it here, but I would never admit that to anyone in my family. I hate everything about living in the city. I really miss Kentucky.