Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
She points her thumb over her shoulder back to the door of the clubhouse. “I know it probably took a lot for you to play cocky in there, but I promise you, you don’t have to play. You have every right to be cocky. Now go and show everyone you do.”
I can’t stop myself from closing the distance between Cas and me, pulling her in for a hug. It’s taken her some time to get used to my hugs. I know her experiences in growing up were different than mine and my brother’s. We can barely leave a room without someone wanting to pull us into a hug or lay a few pecks on our cheeks. I ate up the attention at home because it was the only place I ever got it. My family was all I had, but hopefully I’ll have this club, too. I’ll have something that’s mine. That I wasn’t born into. Somewhere I can fit in, because I don't seem to fit in anywhere.
Unlike months before, this hug comes easy to her, and she returns it with a hard squeeze. “Don’t forget it’s going to be more difficult to run at a higher elevation than you’re used to. At higher altitudes, like in Colorado, the air is thin, which means you’ll get less oxygen per breath you take. You’ll have to put in a lot more effort and work much harder to run at the same pace you’re used to,” she says before pulling back. “Be careful.”
“You’re worse than my brother,” I tease, trying to relieve a little bit of the emotion floating in the air around us.
“No one is worse than my Vincent.”
“He must be rubbing off on you.”
“Oh, he’s…” I throw my hand up, not wanting her to finish that sentence. She laughs.
“I’ll tell Scribe you went to pack a bag,” she says.
“Thanks.” I give her one last look before I hop into my truck and take off for my apartment. I go through everything that happened. I know Cas had been saying I would get this, but to really have it, to know I have a shot at being a real member of the Ghost Riders, is better than anything I’ve ever accomplished before.
Prospect. I have my freaking foot in the door. I wonder if this is how Vincent felt when he got into the FBI. I feel a tug of guilt at not being able to call him up and tell him about it. I tell him most things. Before Cas, he was my best friend. My only friend, really, and he had to be. I was his little sister. He was stuck with me. The only person who seemed to get me.
When I hit my apartment, I fly up the stairs, unlock my front door, and then kick it closed behind me. I flip on the light and stop short when I see my brother sitting on my couch, arms folded over his chest looking just like my father.
His dark hair is cut short and he’s built like a freaking tank. A very annoyed-looking tank.
“I’m really going to have to take that key back if you’re going to be all creepy and sit in the dark.” I drop my keys and the folder on the table by the front door. “The least you could do is clean or something,” I joke, but he doesn’t even crack a smile. He just stares…and stares.
“So you know.” He tilts his head to the side with a really? look on his still-very-annoyed face. I know Cas didn’t tell him, yet somehow he knows everything. “Mom know?”
He lets out a huff. “Hell, I never know what Mom knows,” he finally says, a little smile pulling at his lips. A really little smile, but I’ll take it over the annoyed look.
“You’re not talking me out of it.” I throw the words out there, just wanting them done with. Might as well get this fight rolling, I need to get going soon. “I’m 21. Hell, you were 18 when—”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, cutting me off and dropping his arms from their folded position on his chest. He places his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and leaving me a little bit shocked.
“If anyone knows what a woman is capable of, it’s me, Violet. I don’t worry about you because you’re a woman. I worry because you’re my baby sister. I came here because I wanted you to know that. That it pissed me off you hadn’t told me on your own by now.”
Guilt hits me hard. Shit, this day is just a ball full of all kinds of emotions. I guess I don’t really have any reason to not have told him. Maybe before Cas, I might have thought he wouldn’t be okay with my hanging with a motorcycle club, what with him being a Fed and all, but it’s clear that isn’t something he gives a shit about. We both know the Ghost Riders are clean. Well, where it counts, anyway.