Anarchist Season One: Book 1-5 Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
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“What is it that you want to know?”

Uh-huh, stalling. I gave her a look that I’m sure would put more fear in her than her husband’s fists. No I don’t have any fucking patience with this shit.

“Look, I can see that you’ve already had a change of heart and started worrying about what life is going to be like without your piece a shit spouse, I could give a fuck about you or him.

I do give a fuck about the young girl that came crawling onto my place this morning. Now you wanna go back there for more beatings and bullshit, feel fucking free, but if you have some fairy tale notion in your head that she’s going with you, you can forget that shit right now.

Even if she changes her mind and decide she wants to leave, she can’t.”

“But you can’t keep us here against our will.” She wrung her hands together and looked at me pleadingly. If I had time to give a fuck I might’ve worked on her a little bit to get her to come to her fucking senses.

But I ran out of time to give a fuck when someone slaughtered most of my blood. These days my give a shit meter stayed stuck on empty.

“I’m not keeping you against shit, you can go anytime you fucking please, but your daughter stays; she’s under my protection now.”

“But if she doesn’t go through with it there’s going to be trouble...”

“What kind of trouble?” she wrung her hands harder and looked miserable as fuck, still I couldn’t find it in me to give much of a shit.

She had stood by and watched her husband abuse her kid; that little bit of heat she’d shown this morning had obviously worn off and now she was probably thinking that she was better off with the devil she knows.

Whatever her reasoning, I couldn’t say that I was surprised. I’d seen it often enough to know it.

There were kids here whose mothers had crawfished as well. Unlike the government, we didn’t give children back to their fucked up mothers who were willing to put their own children in danger.

The one time the slimy fuck sheriff had come out here for one of my kids, as they all come to be known, I’d sent his ass packing with a warning.

If he didn’t want me burning down his house of cards, he’d leave my shit alone.

He didn’t know what Clay and Brand had copied from his office before they walked, and we always held that shit over his head.

We had plenty to take the greedy fuck down, but we were playing a strategic game that was full of checks and balances.

If I moved too soon I’d miss the one thing I wanted most of all. To burn Royce Davis once and for all!

“I don’t know too much about...”

“Lady do I look like I have time for your bullshit? I know that two minutes after getting here you started having second thoughts; I don’t give a shit. I want to know what’s planned for tomorrow and I want to know it all now.”

“You have to understand, Carl never would’ve done it if we didn’t have the need...”

“You know, when I pulled you out of that place I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but if you’re gonna sit there and spout excuses for your piece a shit husband, then there are no longer any doubts.

I repeat, I don’t care about your fucked up feelings or what the fuck you think. You and your husband sold your fucking kid to a monster.” I saw her flinch as if I’d hit her and really couldn’t care less.

As soon as I got what I wanted out of her she was gone. She was starting to piss me the fuck off and I wasn’t in the mood. I had shit to do because I didn’t know exactly what her daughter had brought to my door, and I had people to protect.

Her old man might not have known me personally before today, but the way he’d tried to run from me earlier, told me that he knew something of who I am, or at the very least had heard of me.

Which meant that he could’ve already told Royce what was going on. Would this be the thing that brought the slimy fuck out from behind that cast iron wall? I should be so fucking lucky.

Then again, what were the odds of the man’s intended, bought and paid for bride, falling into my lap so effortlessly?

I know how the bastard thinks; if he paid for it he owns it lock stock and barrel. Or, more to the point and more his style; if he sees it, and wants it, it shall be his.

And he doesn’t share well with others, whether the shit belongs to them or not. I can’t see him spending all that money over the past six years and just walking away from it.


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