Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Decker sure hoped to fuck that was what it was. Because the sooner he could find Sadie, shed that prospect cut and go back to his normal life, the better.
Decker hopped out of the Ford Ranger, shrugged on his prospect cut and headed inside.
The second he stepped over the threshold, loud music assaulted his ears. At least it wasn’t country. He didn’t mind Led Zeppelin, except when it was loud enough to make his fucking ears bleed.
He spotted Wolf standing in the corner chewing the shit with some other Demons, but as he began to head that way, he realized just who he was talking to.
Saint, with his ol’ lady Cookie by his side.
Fuck.
Even though he never went face to face with Saint or Cookie the night he, Crew and Rez went to watch Finn strip, it was best to steer clear of them, if possible. He’d wait to approach Wolf until he was done talking to the Demon in charge of The Peach Pit.
When he could, he also avoided any of the prospects that had been working that night. Though, if Mutt or Popeye showed up at the Uniontown church, they most likely wouldn’t recognize him. The Peach Pit’s lights had been low and Decker looked different now than he did back then between his hair, beard, the way he dressed, and the fake gut he wore, in addition to the extra weight he put on.
To be safe, he ducked into the hallway leading to the addition in the back. But as he did so, he ran smack into someone.
He put out a hand as he bounced off another biker.
“Fuck,” Decker grunted, keeping his head down. “Sorry, brother.”
“What the fuck—“
That voice sounded too familiar.
“Decker?” came a female whisper.
And so did that one.
He lifted his head. “No. Hatchet,” he corrected Wilder quickly.
Decker checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was within hearing range, stepped shoulder to shoulder with Fletch and asked under his breath, “Brother, you get the photo I texted you?”
Fletch tipped his head, indicating they should move farther away from the common area. He followed the undercover couple around the corner into the main corridor and into one of the rooms still under construction.
“Babe, stand in the doorway and keep an eye out, will you?”
Wilder gave him both a nod and her back as she stood sentry. She stayed within hearing distance of their conversation but also where she could see if anyone was nearby.
“Thanks, Kitten.” He shot Wilder a wink and she rolled her eyes, before keeping her head on a swivel as lookout.
“Haven’t see you in a fucking while,” Decker said, looking Fletch up and down, surprised how much his fellow state trooper now looked like a legit biker.
“No shit. Damn! Look at that fucking mess on your face. And your goddamn hair! Never thought I’d see the day Mr. Squared-Away Cop turned into a scumbag. I didn’t recognize you at first.” Fletch reached into Decker’s cut and patted the fake belly. “Jesus, what’s under your shirt?”
“Silicone beer gut.”
“That’s fucking genius.”
“Don’t tell Crew that since it was his idea. So, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asked the BAMC Vice President.
“Been working on an invite from Wolf for a while, as you know. I finally got it since I keep hinting I want to patch over from the Angels to the Demons. He must have finally picked up the crumbs I’d been tossing at his feet.”
Decker huffed. “Switching teams.”
“Yeah, well... Even if we don’t get in here, I was hoping to get PC for Crew tonight.”
“You might not need to.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” his fellow Blue Avenger asked.
“Because I got a text not an hour ago about doing a ‘delivery’ from here to Pizza Town.”
“A delivery? Of ice?”
Decker shrugged. “Has to be. Unless it’s cash.”
“Even if it is, and it’s a large enough amount, that might be good enough for Crew to get that affidavit signed by the judge.”
“Let’s fucking hope. So, did you get it?”
“What?”
Decker shook his head. “The shit I texted you last night.”
“Yeah, I got it. Who is she?”
“Name’s Sadie Parrish.”
“No shit. You texted that info with her pic. What I meant was, who is she to you?”
“Her sister’s living with me—”
Fletch’s head snapped back so quickly, he probably had whiplash. “Her sister’s what?”
“Keep your fucking voice down,” Decker hissed. “I don’t want them knowing I’m looking for her.”
“Why? Is she an ol’ lady or a sweet butt here?”
“She could be a sweet butt, but I don’t have confirmation of that. What I know—though, I don’t have any actual proof of this, either—is she hangs around with the Demons and does whatever she needs to do for meth.”
“Shit,” Fletch whispered.
“Yeah, seems like she’ll do anything to remain high since she’s an addict. My worry is, if she doesn’t get pulled from this situation and get help, she’s going to end up like Amelia.”