Lock (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #5) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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She stared as her head began to throb. “I, uh… okay.” What option did she have? She hurried after him into a small kitchen where he was settling Caleb in a highchair with motorcycles on the cushion. As if they had a mind of their own, her lips curled into a smile at the sight.

Who knew a motorcycle highchair was a thing?

“Here,” he said as he went to the refrigerator, pulled out a watermelon White Claw, then handed it to her. “You look like you could use a drink. Sorry, it’s not something stronger.”

“Um, thanks.” She popped the top and took a sip—anything to take her attention off Lock and how his arm muscles rippled as he moved about. The last thing she needed was to have a sexual awakening over the man pretending to own her. She gulped her drink. Too bad there wasn’t a bottle of vodka to beef this guy up.

“You lived around here long?”

Small talk? Now they were making small talk? Was he going to ignore everything she said?

“Yes.” She swallowed her sip. “My whole life.”

He nodded and made a noise of understanding. “So you were around when my president, Curly, ran another club. When he was arrested?”

“Uh, yes. I was a kid, but old enough to remember and have a basic understanding of what was going on. I think I was in my early teens. Now the news says he’s innocent and was wrongfully convicted.”

Lock nodded as he screwed the cap on a baby bottle. “Yes, to all of that. But it’s his story to tell you sometime. Since you were around then, I’m guessing you’ve heard all sorts of rumors about MC life.”

She paused with the can near her lips. “You could say that.”

Chuckling, he shook the bottle. As soon as Caleb saw it, the baby shrieked and smacked his little hands on the highchair tray. “Stop acting like you’re gonna say something that’ll set me off,” Lock said. “I don’t offend easily, and I won’t lose my shit on you. Say what you want.”

“Okay.” She set her drink down and looked him in the eye. Damn, his eyes were a light brown, almost golden color. Did he wear contacts?

Doesn’t matter!

“Uh, back then, everyone knew that club sold every drug imaginable, trafficked weapons, ran prostitution rings, and had a hand in just about every other crime. Everyone had heard the stories about the orgies and how they treated women. There were all sorts of crazy rumors swirling around. Still are.”

“You’re not wrong. That club was a shit show. Curly will be the first to tell you.” He finished shaking up the bottle and set it on the tray. Caleb immediately reached for it with both hands and shoved the tip into his mouth. His cheeks worked fast as he downed the contents.

This was the second time Lock had referenced Curly sharing his story with her. That would never happen. This collaboration would be over as soon as Oliver returned the club’s money. And if she got her way, that’d be tomorrow.

“You have no reason to believe me, but our club is nothing like the rumors you hear.”

She scoffed. “You’re loan sharks.”

His shrug spoke to his indifference to their illegal activity. “I didn’t say we were saints, just that we aren’t fucking assholes. The women associated with my club? Well, they’re fucking queens to their men. Not sure I’ve met other women who are treated so well.” He winked as he dumped some sort of puffed snack out on Caleb’s tray. “As they should be.”

Queens? As they should be? Who were these people? If he spoke the truth, everything she thought she knew about the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club was wrong.

She chugged the rest of her drink. It’d take a few more to ease her tension. Tonight had been the most bizarre evening she’d ever experienced, and it didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon.

“You’ll see,” he added. “They’re great. You’ll love them.”

“What? No. Why would I meet any of them?” Was he insane?

He laughed again. Brenna refused to admit she liked the sound of his deep, rich laughter or the way it lit up his face with a genuine smile, making him even hotter.

“The ladies have a way of… let’s call it adopting women they like. And they’re gonna love you. Be prepared to be pulled into the fold.”

She shook her head. Never going to happen. “But they’re not gonna meet me, so it’s a moot point.”

Lock grunted. “Oh, you’ll meet them.” He leaned against the counter, folding those very nice arms across his chest. “If we’re gonna do this, there’s no way you won’t meet them. Trust me, as soon as they hear about you, they’ll be inviting you to their margarita nights or spa toe things or whatever it is they do that terrifies the rest of us.”


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