Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
When he had everything he needed, it was lunchtime, and so he left the high school, feeling happy. On his way back into town, he came to a stop when he caught sight of Bishop. He was carrying out a large bag of what looked like bird feed. He placed in the back of an old man’s pickup, wiping his hands before he caught sight of him.
“Hey, Dad,” Bishop said.
“So I’m Dad now.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what to call you. It’s not like I’ve got some kind of knowledge about what’s happening to me.” Bishop shrugged. “Did you make a decision?”
Preacher wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t know what his son was talking about. “No. I haven’t really thought about you or what I should do with you.”
“Ouch. I’m surprised the boys haven’t ordered you to deal with my ass long before now.”
“You think I don’t know you helped us to locate the Slaves to the Beast? Without your help, I wouldn’t have been able to take them out.”
“Yeah, well, if it wasn’t for me, I wouldn’t be out in the cold like this, and I’d still have Robin. She never would’ve been taken and I wouldn’t be one of the world’s biggest fuck-ups, but I can’t go back and change what I did.”
“You think of yourself as a fuck-up?”
“Aren’t I?”
“I honestly don’t know anymore.” Preacher didn’t have it in him to get into this argument with his son. There was nothing he could do to change the past. No way of stopping what was to come. “You’re working here now?”
“Yeah, it’s a good way to make a living.”
“It is? Hauling birdseed?”
“It beats sitting at home all day waiting for the bullet.”
“When your time comes, you’ll know about it.” Preacher looked around and he caught several people watching them. “Did you hear about Robin?”
“I heard. Congratulations?”
“You’re not pissed?” Preacher asked.
“Nah, I lost the right to be anything a long time ago. I’m happy for the two of you. I’m pleased you were able to work your shit out in your own way. It’s what is supposed to happen. I wish you both a lot of success this time.”
Someone called his name. “I’ve got to go.”
Preacher didn’t stop him from leaving. It was the best thing for him to do. Rubbing the back of his head, he tried to think of something to say but came up with nothing. The only reason the guys hadn’t been hassling him about taking care of Bishop was purely down to his help in eliminating the whole of Slaves to the Beast.
Running a hand across his face, he continued his way toward the library where Robin was working. Anne had taken the day off and was taking care of Bethany. Entering the library, he saw her standing at the desk, clicking away on the computer. For a few seconds, he simply watched her.
Before she was taken from him, he’d never gotten the luxury of being able to watch her. Right now, she looked so lost in thought, like nothing was bothering her. She was busy working, her fingers dancing over the keys. He’d taken her for granted, he knew that now, but he also knew he would never allow his own fears or the club to come between them.
He stepped toward the desk. “Hello, beautiful. I’m not looking for a book but the love of a woman.”
She chuckled. “Hello.” She put her hands on the counter and leaned across, kissing his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been a couple of hours since you last saw me.”
“And already it feels like too long. Not that I don’t mind you being here, but it’s rare to see you inside the library.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She’d removed the blonde dye Reaper had forced her to wear, and those gorgeous brown locks he loved so much were in pride of place. He would never get her to change. He didn’t need her to.
“I want to invite you to dinner tonight.”
“You’ll be cooking dinner?”
“Like always.”
“Then I don’t need an invite.” She giggled. “You’re being silly.”
“Can you call Anne? Ask her to keep an eye on Bethany for us?”
“Of course. I don’t think she’ll mind. Do you want to tell me what all of this is about?”
“Not really.” He gripped the back of her neck. “Don’t get into any trouble now.”
“I won’t.”
He left her alone and headed instead to Billy at the police station.
Billy was at the front desk, once again, and someone else was typing away at a computer. “You know those things are going to kill you one day.”
“You’re a computerphobe.”
“I don’t like things I don’t understand. This little machine has way too much information on it and at the same time, not enough.”
“This isn’t a social call?” Billy asked.
“It’s a whatever-you-want-to-call-it call so I can get what I want.”