Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Bright fucking red rage.
Teeth.
A fucking bite mark on her fucking nipple.
I stood over Thia as a confused mixture of hate, rage, and lust swam around inside of me. I added decapitation to the list of things I was going to do to Chop and possibly burning off his own fucking nipples beforehand.
On the other hand, if the bitch was working for Chop, it was going to be a shame to have to finish what he’d started on such a perfect body.
I paced the room, cracking my knuckles and breathing fire. If this was King’s old place I’d probably have already punched a hole in the fucking drywall and suddenly wished that the old dilapidated garage that used to be covered with my Johnny Cash posters and Beach Bastards flags hadn’t been replaced by new, fresh, and white paint.
Thia sat up suddenly and opened her eyes revealing large round and doll-like emerald greens beneath the surface. “Bear,” she whispered, locking her gaze onto me. Her one hand flew up to her chest to grab my skull ring which was dangling on a chain between her tits.
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything, because her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to convulse.
CHAPTER NINE
Thia
Warmth. I was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort I never wanted to emerge from.
“You dead, Darlin’?” A deep voice penetrated the silence, calling me back from the darkness.
Warm water cascaded onto my skin. I was sitting down on the slippery surface of a shallow bathtub while strong arms cradled me against a broad hard chest. Something huge and hard prodded my back, causing my eyes to fly open.
Panic poured into my veins like I’d been shot in the heart with adrenaline.
I sat up and turned my head, staring directly into the sapphire blue pools that made my skin crawl and bile rise in my throat.
It couldn’t be. I thought I’d gotten away.
CHOP.
“Nooo!!!!” I screamed, scrambling away, trying to hoist my leg over the ledge, but only managing to lift my leg high enough to hit my knee directly into the side of the bathtub.
The same strong arms wrapped around me and tugged me back underneath the spray.
I couldn’t breathe.
This can’t be happening.
But it was.
It was happening all over again, and I couldn’t. Fucking. Breathe.
“Look at me!” the voice ordered, and when I didn’t comply he kept one hand wrapped around my shoulders and used the other to turn my chin to face him. I fought him using every ounce of strength I had, but it wasn’t enough. I was tired. Weak. The muscles in my neck gave out and I was forced to again look into the eyes of my captor.
There was a hardness and an anger, a violence, lurking in the bright eyes before me. A deep down exhaustion I could relate to, however there was no outright hatred, no malice.
It wasn’t him.
It wasn’t Chop.
I had gotten away after all.
But where had I gotten away to?
“Bear?” I asked. Despite being surrounded by water my throat was dry and scratchy, my words came out like I’d been in the desert for months breathing in sand. “How are you here?”
“No, you’ll answer my questions first,” Bear said, peering down at me like he’d never seen me before in his life. “Don’t worry about where you are or how I’m here. You need to be more concerned about telling me why you’re here and who sent you.” Trails of water ran down his face, dripping off of the bottom of his beard which was much longer than I remembered it being. He brushed some of the wet hair from my forehead. I jerked away from his touch, my body still in full panic mode.
Remembering the prodding on my back I looked down to where his jeans bulged. Bear’s eyes followed mine. “Can’t help that. All my cock knows is that I’m in the shower with someone who has a pussy.” I lifted my hands to cover my naked breasts, suddenly all too aware of my nakedness, but thankful I was still wearing my shorts.
My muscles felt like rubber that had been melting in the heat of the sun like a tire in the middle of the highway.
Used, spent, hot, useless.
Broken.
Bear wanted to know why I was there.
Why was I there?
Something had happened before I went to the MC. Before Chop. But my brain was foggy and I couldn’t see the images of the day that were just beyond my grasp.
“I don’t understand,” I said. This time when I spoke I felt a tug at the corner of my lip. I touched the spot with my fingertips, discovering a soft scab over a fresh wound.
“You don’t remember going to the MC?” Bear asked, raising a brow. I don’t know who the man sitting in front of me was because there was none of the charm and carefreeness that practically dripped off of the Bear from seven years ago. This man was like a vacant version of his younger self.
I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to my knees. “I remember riding my bike. I remember the rain. I remember going up to the gate. A prospect named…Pick? Peck? No, Pecker let me in.”
“Never liked that little twat,” Bear scoffed.
Why did I go to the MC?
Think, Thia. Think. Why are you with Bear right now?
The images I’d been reaching for began to flash in my mind like Polaroid pictures being thrown into a stack, each one containing a flash of memory, one after the other.
My mother sitting in the rocking chair in Jesse’s old room.
The gun in her hand.
My father’s lifeless body.
The shotgun in my hand.
My mother’s blood against the white of the side of the house.
I gasped as the photos began to stack up higher and higher, filling my brain with images I never wanted to see again. This couldn’t be real. I had to be dead. Mama was right. I was going to hell. Because that’s exactly where it felt like I was.