Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
His wife, Rhonda, elbows him and picks it right back up. “Ignore him, Road, he’s being an ass.”
“Good save,” I say calmly, even though every bit of me is fired up. “Don’t think he would like me to have a problem with him, or would you, Hank?” I ask, grabbing a tray and placing it on the counter. I then take two plates and help myself to every single fucking thing available. Because fuck Hank.
Hank might be the size of two men, and appears even larger when he crosses his arms, but he’s no fighter. He pouts and watches my every move while his wife is already setting up two mugs for me.
“How does he like his coffee, sweetheart?”
Hank’s scowl deepens, though he doesn’t dare interfere when I drizzle pancakes with honey. “So we’re also feeding that bastard now?”
I take a deep breath and lean forward, placing my palms on the counter and pin Hank in place with the sharpest glare I can muster. “Clyde Turner is my future husband, so you better watch your mouth when you speak about him. This is your last warning,” I say, and while calling Clyde mine feels good, I’m fucking pissed off that I have to fight for us both in the first place. I helped build this place. Literally renovated this building, and now I’m being disrespected inside it. But Rhonda did nothing wrong, so I offer her a tight smile. “Strong, no sugar or milk.”
Hank looks like he’s swallowed a turd, but at least he shuts up.
Rhonda sighs deeply. “Please don’t mind him, Road. His heart is in the right place, but you know we have kids, and he’s worried about a Butcher living here. I’m sure that if you chose him, he’s safe. I’ll get you the fresh bacon.”
A sudden pain spreads through my chest like electricity, and I squeeze the edge of the counter with both hands, because I’m not ignorant of the potential fallout of my actions. Clyde’s not a danger to anyone, but his former club might be, and by bringing him here, I am putting everyone at risk.
I exhale, swallowing the rock forming in my throat when guilt rises inside, because those are all my people, and I want to protect them. Still, Clyde won’t be safe out there, and there’s safety in numbers. Even Butchers aren’t crazy enough to attack a whole settlement when they could just ambush us somewhere on the road.
“There’s no perfect solution,” I say, watching Rhonda place two mugs on my tray.
Her expression turns to concern, and she pats my forearm. “There never is. We will deal with it together. We always have the caves if worse comes to worst.”
I’m not glad she thinks it might get so dangerous the civilians will need to hide in the caves, but it’s reassuring she believes I made the right choice. I thank her, then take my piles of food and the coffee mugs she put lids on. I barely had room for the two cream cheese and raisin rolls for Creep.
When I first came in, I did my best to not meet anyone’s gaze, to not react to provocation, but now my eyes wander straight to the long table where my brothers sit. They’re all staring at me, and while I’ve had enough confrontation to last me the whole morning, I find myself drifting toward them.
“Morning,” I say, capturing Prophet’s gaze.
He nods at my tray. “You can bring him here, you know?”
I almost get angry on Clyde’s behalf, because he’s no coward and would accompany me here, if he knew I left. “Didn’t want to wake him up. He had a tough few days.”
“You’re the one who was in the hospital,” Yeti mumbles.
“Will he just… live here now?” Rooster asks. His spot is farthest from me, so he rises in his seat to see me better.
I choose to ignore questions with such obvious answers and stare back at Yeti. “And I’m fine, so I let him sleep longer. Not a crime.”
Harvey smirks into his coffee. “What was that word you used, Rooster? Simp?”
Rooster starts choking on toast. “Nah. No idea… what you… mean!” he says between one cough and another as I simmer in anger and the other guys chuckle.
I guess that’s better than being called homophobic shit and drowned in a lake. I don’t have the energy to argue with those idiots over them calling me out for being too dedicated to Clyde, so I instead swipe my gaze over them all as I speak. “I need you to go with us to Clyde’s house. He needs his shit, and it’ll be safer with an escort.”
Martin groans. “I wanted to go swimming.”
Prophet cuts him off. “We’ll be there after breakfast. Rooster will bring the van.”
The knot forming in my stomach relaxes as I give him a nod. I know he and I will need a longer conversation about all this, but he’s as supportive as he’s always been, and I hope I can be that kind of friend for him too.