Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Savage took a pull from his cigarette as he gave me the once over and waited for me to spill. It took a minute, but I eventually asked, “Did you know she was moving back?”
“Who?”
“Beck.”
“Yeah, I heard Dad mention it, but I got the feeling it would be after the holidays.” He cocked his brow. “I take it that’s not the case.”
“Nope. She’s back and get this...” I motioned my head over to the little white house next door. “She’s my new neighbor.”
“No shit?”
“Nooo shit.” I glanced down at his cigarette as I asked, “Got a spare?”
Without a word, he grabbed the pack from his cut and pulled one out, offering it to me. I lit it, then took a long drag, letting the nicotine work through the knot in my chest.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Not exactly. I helped Big move in her sofa, but neither of us had much to say.”
Beck and I grew up together. We all did—Savage, Lexie, Darby, Susana, Mia, and Chance were all part of the crew. Beck and Lexie were younger, but they did their best to keep up.
Beck managed a bit better than Lex. She was a bit of a tomboy and didn’t let anything slow her down. I liked that about her. There was a lot I liked about her. She was beautiful and smart, and she had something to say about everything.
But as we grew older, Beck started looking and acting less and less like a tomboy and more like my next girlfriend—only that couldn’t happen. She was too young for me, so I kept my interest in her to myself and waited for her to grow up a bit. And then, she went off to college and never came back.
Savage was one of the few who knew how everything had gone down, so it was no surprise when he pushed, “So, what are you going to do?”
“Hell, if I know.”
“There are things that need to be said.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Then, go talk to her.”
The words had barely left his mouth when our attention was drawn over to Beck’s house. The front door had swung open, and Ava came tearing outside. Her little legs were moving like there was no tomorrow, and her curls were bouncing with every step. She made a beeline for the mailbox and yanked the door open.
She eased up on her tiptoes and reached inside. Her small hand rifled around for a bit, and disappointment marked her face when there was no mail to be found. She closed the door, and when she started back up to the house, she spotted us watching her. A soft smile crossed her face as she lifted her hand and waved, then darted back inside the house, slamming the door behind her. I looked back over to Savage and scoffed, “Oh, and did I mention that she’s got a kid?”
“Whoa, wait... That was her kid?”
“Yep. Apparently, her name is Ava.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me.” Savage’s eyes darkened. “How the hell did we not know that?”
“No clue. She and Big kept it from all of us, I guess.”
“But this is Fury. We don’t keep secrets, and Big knows that better than anyone.”
“Big had his reasons for keeping quiet—just like she did.” I dragged a hand over my face, frustration burning through me. “I just don’t have any idea what those reasons could be.”
“Only one way you’re gonna find out.”
“Yeah, I know.” I crushed the cigarette beneath my boot. “I just gotta figure out what I’m gonna say to her. Hell, maybe it’s best that I don’t say anything at all.”
“Nah, man. You two need to have a conversation. Besides, something tells me you aren’t going to be the only one who’s gonna be wondering what was going on with her.”
“True, and you’re right. We do need to have a conversation, but right now, my focus needs to be on the club and this whole diamond thing with Maltese.”
“Speaking of which, I gotta get going. Maverick and Wrath are expecting me.”
“Alright. I’ll see you over at the clubhouse.” As he started towards his bike, he shouted, “Best hurry with that alternator. You’ve only got two hours until church!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it.”
Once he was gone, I got back to work on the alternator. I tried to keep my focus, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our earlier meet with Maltese. A sense of dread washed over me when I thought about the tone of his voice as he spoke. It was cold and calculated, and he had an air about him—like he thought he was better than us. And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like it one fucking bit.
In fact, I didn’t like any part of that fucking meet, including when he said, “Those antiques I mentioned before aren’t just antiques.”
“Yeah, we gathered. So, what’s the deal?”