Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
A group of motorcycles up ahead caught my attention.
They were going fast.
But nowhere near as fast as Asher and I were.
But, as if there were divine miracles after all, upon seeing those bikers, Asher slowed down to fall into formation right beside them, as if that’d been his destination all along.
He made some weird hand gestures or something, and I looked over at the man on the bike that was a little behind the one that Asher was hand gesturing at.
The man’s head turned to me, and I knew that he saw the terror in my eyes.
His gaze narrowed on mine.
I held out my hand, my fingers aching from holding on to my wrist so hard, and mouthed, “Please.”
In one swift movement, the man moved over, crowding Asher.
Asher slowed even more and turned his head toward the biker that was now almost kissing handlebars with his.
His arm came out, and as if he’d practiced it a thousand times, he pulled me off of Asher’s bike and onto his.
It was the smoothest movement I’d ever felt.
One second I was on Asher’s, and the next I was bear hugging a stranger and burying my face into the leather jacket covering his back.
I closed my eyes and held on for dear life, so freakin’ relieved that I couldn’t breathe.
I wasn’t aware that we’d even stopped until the rumble pulled me from my thoughts.
Safe.
I was finally safe.
The smell of cedar, pine and something else invaded my senses, and for the first time since this ride had started, I felt like I could breathe again.
Don’t nobody get on my nerves like everybody.
—Cutter’s secret thoughts
CUTTER
The sound of bikes pulling up outside my place had me grabbing my helmet, my cut, and slipping out the door.
I jerked my chin up toward the four bikers waiting for me and stopped at the side of my bike, shrugging into the Truth Tellers MC cut before sliding the helmet over my head.
There were quite a few people that didn’t wear helmets, but the Truth Tellers weren’t one of them. We were all former military.
Every last one of us knew the significance of protecting your noggin.
Plus, all of us had people we cared about, and we didn’t want them to find out we were dead because our heads met pavement and exploded like a cantaloupe.
“Boys,” I drawled as I threw my leg over my Fat Boy and leaned far enough to the side to swing the kickstand free.
“Coastguard,” Detroit, whose real name was Audric, greeted me. “Ready to ride?”
Coastguard was the name given to me by the old president of the Truth Tellers. He’d been a Navy man himself and knew how to insult a fellow Navy man.
“Sure am,” I breathed. “It’s been a long ass day.”
I started my bike up, and we went to the next house, which just so happened to be where Apollo had been spending his evening. Apollo’s real name was actually Finnian.
Apollo was running out of the house without his boots on.
He didn’t have his belt, shirt or cut on, either.
He did, however, have his helmet strapped to his head.
“Bruh,” Bodie, whose road name is Knight, drawled. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Apollo flipped the visor up on his helmet, and his blazing white grin shone through. “Getting caught up on all the gossip.”
“Hopefully you don’t get caught up on the clap,” Posy, better known as Doc, grumbled. “Seriously, she’s been sleeping with everyone at the hospital.”
Doc, being a paramedic, would know. He spent a lot of time there.
“I know, I know.” Apollo groaned. “But she gives really good head.”
I had to laugh as we started off, this time heading to Hagrid’s place.
Hagrid met us at the road before his house came into view, and I raised a brow at him.
He shrugged, but knew it was likely due to the way his girlfriend would yell at him about leaving as soon as he’d gotten home.
Once we’d caught up with him, Piers, whose road name was Webber, our de facto president, signaled for us to ride.
We did, going from I75 to I30, which would eventually take us to the road around the lake, which was where we preferred to ride since it was more scenic, and wasn’t fuckin’ wall to wall traffic.
The sound of a bike whizzing past us going the opposite direction had me shaking my head.
Going that fast was exhilarating, but it was stupid.
If you wrecked going that speed, there was no saving you.
You were dead on impact.
The sound of the bike faded, and the sound of my pipes replaced it, allowing me to forget the stupidity of some people and just enjoy the night.
As much as I could, anyway, with all the fuckin’ traffic.
But once we got past the goddamn Costco, things would get a little less busy.
It was a nice night for a ride.