Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“What are you plannin’, woman?”
“Just going to give her some options. I think she’ll take option number one.”
“What are the options?” Hawk looked interested, but he was also as much of a smartass as Hannah could be.
With a straight face, Hannah answered him, “Bad, and to-be-avoided-at-all-costs.”
Hawk nodded. “I admit, I might be looking forward to this.”
The neighborhood Beth lived in was very upscale. I was worried the bikes wouldn’t fit in, but apparently, there was a weekend warrior “clubhouse” in the middle of the place. There were bikes going all up and down the neighborhood streets, which were nearly labyrinthine in their complexity. So we rolled up in front of her house and parked. There were eight other bikes parked on the street or in driveways in the immediate area.
“Protocol dictates we should let these guys know we’re in their territory,” Inferno muttered. “Don’t mean no disrespect, but no fuckin’ way.” Though we’d all put our colors away before heading here, I understood how Inferno felt. Normally, we were a group governed strictly by the rules we’d put in place. Our habits were regimented as a way for some of the guys to cope. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always at six, noon, and six respectively. It was a constant in a sea of choices because, to borrow a phrase from a movie, when a man’s been asking permission to take a piss for twenty or thirty years, it’s hard to squeeze a drop without say-so.
“Got it,” I said, snorting a little as I held still when Hannah braced her hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she got off my bike. “Ain’t askin’ permission today.”
I got distracted as I watched Hannah saunter up the sidewalk to the front of the house. Her ass swayed enticingly in the skintight jeans she’d put on when she’d insisted on coming with me. She wore a white tank over a black bra. Despite the absence of any tattoos at present, Hannah was every inch a biker’s old lady. I had a feeling I’d be finding new tattoos -- and hopefully body piercings -- on her regularly.
“Uh, we goin’ too, Knuckles?” Inferno’s voice was soft, but I heard the hint of amusement there.
I scowled. “Yeah. Keep your eyes off my woman’s ass.”
“Wouldn’t dream of lookin’, brother.” Hawk sounded too amused, so I gave him a death stare. Bastard wasn’t intimidated in the least. But he didn’t look at Hannah’s ass.
I was expecting to lead this adventure, but my woman took point, which would probably work out in my favor later. Besides, I was curious to see what she had come up with for dealing with Beth.
Hannah didn’t bother ringing the doorbell. She tested the door, found it unlocked, and strode right in like she owned the place. I followed close behind, Hawk and Inferno flanking us as we entered the pristine suburban home.
“Beth!” Hannah called out, her voice carrying through the house. “You have company!”
There was a clatter from somewhere in the back of the house, followed by hurried footsteps. Beth appeared in the hallway, her blonde hair perfectly styled, wearing designer jeans and a silk blouse that probably cost more than most people’s weekly salary. When she saw me, her face went chalk white.
“Knuckles,” she whispered, her eyes darting from me to Hannah to the men behind us. “What are you doing here?”
“Paying a social call,” I said, my voice deliberately casual. “Nice place you got here. Must’ve cost a pretty penny.”
Beth’s gaze hardened as she regained her composure. “It’s been a long time. You should have called first.”
Hannah laughed, the sound cold and brittle. “And miss the surprise on your face? I don’t think so.”
Instead of addressing me, Beth chose to go with Hannah. Inferno gave me the side eye while Hawk looked positively gleeful.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Beth’s smile was cold like a shark. “I’m Beth. Knuckles and I have a daughter together.”
Hannah didn’t return the smile or offer her name. “I didn’t come here to play patty-cake with Real Housewives. I came here to give you a choice.”
“A choice,” Beth scoffed as she crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water. “And what could someone like you possibly have to offer someone like me?”
“Oh, there’s a lot to unpack in that statement.” Hannah shook her head, chuckling lightly. “What can I offer you? That’s easy. I can offer you a quick death. Now. Ask me about your choices.”
“What are you talking about?” Beth looked from Hannah to me. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Touch your phone and you lose option one.”
“You can’t bully me.”
“Nope. But I can beat your ass into submission. You’re already close to losing option one, and you haven’t heard what those options are.” Hannah clicked her tongue in sympathy.
“Knuckles?” Beth gave me the look a woman gets when she expects a man to defend her honor. Usually for something that was entirely her fault.