Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Some UCs even fell for their targets. What could be a dangerous and deadly mistake.
Fletch turned slowly with his hand extended. “Make yourself at home in our new humble abode. You want the five second tour?”
Once again his movement drew her attention to his naked torso, but this time the top and center of his broad back where he had another tattoo. A black and gray compass. It might be called a compass rose or a mariner’s compass, she wasn’t sure, but it had a star shape in the center and a thin line pointing south that was longer than the rest.
Hmm. She wondered what that tattoo meant to him.
That could be a question asked later when they were getting to know each other better, since that was what they needed to do, but first, she wanted to get settled in and unpacked.
And cool off with a shower.
She dragged her eyes from him and back to the apartment. “I can pretty much see most of it from where I’m standing.”
The front door led directly into the living room and there wasn’t much to it. Basically a dark brown leather couch, a comfy-looking recliner, along with a couple of side tables, a ceiling fan, and below a wall-mounted TV was one of those fake electric fireplaces.
An older Formica dining table with four matching chairs divided the living room from the kitchen off to the left. At the back of the living room to the right was a hallway.
From the size of the pawn shop below, she expected the apartment to be much larger. It could be that a portion of the second floor was being used for storage. Unless there was a second apartment on the other side.
She grabbed her suitcase and rolled it toward the hallway, leaving her duffels behind.
When she heard Fletch on her heels, she glanced over her shoulder to see he had the straps of both heavy duffel bags hanging over his shoulders.
Well, look at that. He’s trying to earn some brownie points.
She continued down the hallway, peeking her head inside the first door on the right to see it was a bathroom. About the same size as the hall bathroom in her condo. Like the living room, it contained the basics. A tub/shower combo, a sink, a toilet, what looked like a medicine cabinet over the sink and a narrow linen closet. Nothing fancy but it appeared clean.
That alone was a relief.
As she continued moving down the hallway, she heard behind her, “Since we need to make this look real, your shit needs to be kept in the same room as mine.”
“Not a problem since I’m taking the largest bedroom. We can both store our stuff in there.” There was a hall closet across from the bathroom and a bedroom to both her left and her right at the end of the hall.
She parked her suitcase in the hallway and wandered into the bedroom on the left first. It was small and the space was tight since it held a queen bed.
“That’s your room,” he announced, still standing next to her suitcase.
She walked past him to enter the room across the hall.
Much bigger. A king bed. And…
“Nooooo.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “What the hell?”
Chapter Nine
“A damn mirror?”
In the reflection she saw Fletch follow her in and stand behind her. “This is my room. Unless you wanna share.”
Uh huh. Sure she did. “How come you get the bigger room with the bigger bed?”
“Because I’m bigger and need the space.”
“I know you think that may be a valid reason but—” Her eyes caught something else in the mirror and she dropped her eyes to the bed.
Two black leather vests, known in the MC world as cuts, were laid out on the bedspread. Her gaze slid over the smaller one and she slammed on the brakes at her name patch.
What the actual fuck?
Kitten?
“That has to change.” She was not going by the ol’ lady name of Kitten.
“Too late. The patch is already embroidered and sewn onto your cut.”
“I can rip it off and get it replaced.”
“But you won’t. It’s only temporary. And you know you can’t use your real name, Sandy.”
“But I would’ve picked a nickname a lot better than Kitten. Even the name Sandy would’ve been better. Who the fuck picked it?” Nova turned her eyes to him, already knowing that answer.
If she hadn’t been swamped with wrapping up the reports on another case, she would’ve been much more involved in the decisions made prior to moving in.
Of fucking course Fletch wore a blank expression. Attempting to be a complete picture of pure innocence.
Bullshit.
She pulled a long breath into her nostrils and reminded herself that this should only be a short undercover assignment. Live amongst the Dirty Angels, learn what they needed to fit in, then reach out to the Deadly Demons and make some deals to collect evidence on the crimes to make a case against the MC.