Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 80249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
It sounds like I’m full of myself, but I’m pretty sure he’s here to see me each day. It’s taken effort not to go over to him and ask. Being quiet and naïve is not who I am. Not asking someone outright what I want to know goes against my personality. At first I worried he was one of Dad’s enemies, but the more I see him, I’m thinking it’s not true. The fact he’s a biker is just a coincidence…
Which is more than a little scary.
“I’m going to report him to Mother Lisa,” Elise announces and those words I hear—those I don’t blot out.
“You will not,” I respond and my voice is as cold as steel. I’ve played under the radar and I’ve never drawn attention to myself, so the change in my voice and demeanor is something that can’t be missed. Perhaps that’s the reason everyone around us goes silent.
“Tori—”
“You will mind your own damn business,” I order and I ignore the gasps from the other girls. “And if you so much as breathe about him to any of the others I will make you regret the day you drew your first breath.”
“You can’t do—”
“You don’t know anything about my life before I came here, Elise. Trust me when I tell you that I can and I will.”
Elise goes visibly pale. I am my father’s child, and I think she can see that in my face—or at least sense it. Maybe she’s not as stupid as I gave her credit for. I’m mad. I’m so seriously pissed off right now that I don’t have words to describe it. Only I’m not mad at Elise. I’m mad at myself. I have no idea why I reacted that way. Sure, I hate Elise, but I’m here for a reason and showing my ass over a man I don’t even know does nothing to help my situation. I push my food away in irritation.
I look up to see everyone staring at me. I cross my arms at my chest and put on my favorite fuck-you face and wait. They all nervously look away and begin eating. Eventually they begin talking again about the charity bake sale the convent is hosting later in the week. In the background I can hear the roaring of a bike, the pipes raking. I look up, even after telling myself not to. Devil is straddling his bike, revving up the motor and he’s looking over his shoulder…
Directly at me.
Our eyes lock and then I watch as he puts on his shades, turns and takes off.
Damn… I think I’m in trouble.
Devil
“About time you got here. The party started without you,” Fury laughs, slapping me on the back.
I look around, taking a deep breath. The scene tonight is exactly what I like. Half-naked to completely naked women everywhere, booze and assorted joys to explore if you want, and people having a good time. It’s the life I embraced when I set out to become a member of the Savage Brothers. It’s a life I’ve enjoyed for fucking years.
Who in the hell knew talking to a woman—one look at a woman—could change everything. Instead of being here and enjoying the party I’ve been stalking a woman I can’t touch. I feel like a fucking creeper. I’m keyed up and pissed—even when I don’t have a right to be.
“I don’t give a fuck about the party,” I grumble, grabbing a bottle of Jack and ignoring the glass. I look around the room one last time and this is not where I want to be.
“Hey! Where ya’ going?” Fury asks, but I ignore him and keep walking toward the back.
I push through the doors and take in a deep breath when I hit outside. These doors lead to our courtyard out back. It’s not much more than gravel. None of the men here enjoy mowing grass and since Diesel keeps a tight rein on our prospect numbers, gravel is easier. There’s a few fifty gallon drums on concrete blocks that we throw a fire in when we have a party, a few picnic tables scattered here and there and a couple homemade brick and steel grills. Nothing fancy, but it works. That seems to be our motto. It’s actually suited me better than most clubs we visit.
Tonight it annoys the fuck out of me.
I feel like I’m caged inside my own skin. When I get like this—and that’s not often—I want to ride or fuck. Tonight, for whatever reason, fucking is the furthest thing from my mind. I’m ignoring the fact it has anything to do with the brunette who is torturing me lately. She’s not available and whatever this voodoo is that has my dick twisted up over her will pass. All I need to do is wait it out.
“What’s wrong with you, man?” Fury asks after following me outside. I sit on one of the tables, my feet on the bench, open the bottle and take a big swig from it while looking up at the stars in the Tennessee sky.