Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“How’d you go?”
I force a smile. “Good, I think.”
Pulling out, we drive back to the club without another word. I’m on lockdown, and I don’t like it. I’m able to work at the club only because Western is there every night. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t go there, either. I told Leo I was sick, so that’ll give me a couple of days grace there. He would lose it if he knew where I really was. Gosh, he would really flip.
Arriving back at the club, I get out of the truck and walk to the spare room in the house that I’ve been given. I can’t say I’m overly fond of sleeping here. It’s night two and I’m more than a little ready to sneak out and go home to my bed. The room locks, which I’m thankful for, and I washed the sheets three times, just to be safe, but I still feel out of place. Bikers and their women move around all day long, and I hear more than my fair share of sex going on. The girls that come to this club, they’re easy pickings and they love it. They’re all pretty enough, dressed scantily, and willing to take any biker that hasn’t settled down.
One of the old ladies, Shirl, belonging to an older biker, Bear, told me that if you’re with a biker and he claims you, you make it known very quickly to those women that he is no longer free. Otherwise, they will continue to throw themselves at your man. She then proceeded to tell me that one tried to touch Bear after he claimed her, so she threw her to the ground and broke her nose.
So so kind.
Commotion outside has me walking over to the window that I make note to give a good cleaning later. Glancing out, I see a group of about six men standing outside the gates, yelling something I can’t hear. Taking the window in my hands, I push it up so I can better see what’s going on. The man at the front, who looks Mexican, is shouting for Western to come out.
Except he’s calling him Nightmare.
This can’t be good.
Movement catches my eye and I see Western walking towards the group of men, and behind him, at least ten bikers. It’s quite the sight, and it’s incredibly confronting. They’re terrifying like that, like a pack of wolves. Their faces stony, their hands by their sides, their eyes focused solely on the men out front. They’re approaching them, unafraid, because together, they’re a force.
Holding my breath, I wait, a little scared at what is about to happen.
The group stops and only Western moves forward until he’s face to face with the man out front. Words are shared, and then, without warning, the man just pulls out a knife. Gasping, I press a hand to my chest as he swings that knife in Western’s direction, aiming straight for his face. Then, as if they’re all thrown into action, everyone moves. Western stops the attack against him, and the two of them fall into a fist fight that is utterly terrifying. The other bikers have all drawn guns, and are pointing them at the remaining men, who stand back, not willing to get shot for whoever their pathetic leader is.
He's not that smart, anyway.
My eyes move back to Western, my heart racing, as I watch him and the other man fall onto the ground, fists flying, dust circling up into the sky and making it harder for me to see. Grunts and growls can be heard, and finally, I catch sight of Western on top of the man, blood dripping from his mouth as he leans over him. He raises a fist and hits him, repeatedly, until the man’s face is bloodied, and he is no longer conscious.
Then, he stands, his eyes fiercely locking onto the men standing behind their leader. I don’t hear what he tells them, but the snarly boom of his voice does echo to my room. Then, he turns, walking away as if nothing has happened. Stopping mid-way back to the house, he looks up and his eyes land on mine. I hold his gaze, my entire body trembling from the events that just unfolded. Spitting blood onto the ground, he stares at me a second longer, before disappearing.
What in the ever-loving hell was that?
SLIDING A DRINK ACROSS the bar to a biker, whose name is Venus, I offer him a smile. I’m not working tonight, so I made myself useful by working at this bar instead. After today’s events, I busied myself cleaning this mess of a club house. Hell, I even washed sheets. That was disgusting and I decided that bikers are just nasty. Waving their dicks all around the place and not cleaning their sheets.
“You mix a good drink,” Venus nods, giving me a smile.