Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“You want to tell me about that?” I jerk my head, motioning behind us.
“Definity need alcohol for that conversation.” She shudders.
I gaze around the room, looking for a clock as we enter the bar. “It’s a bit early.”
“Five o’ clock somewhere. After the night we had, I think we deserve it.” She skips toward the bar and points to Daddy in the corner. “Plus, Daddy’s already drinking.”
He raises a glass of what looks like bourbon, the amber liquid swilling. “Gets the brain ticking.”
That’s bullshit, but who am I to argue with my elder?
“That was a low blow with the TV.” He grumbles. Craning my neck, I see the screen is still black, all he has to do is plug it back in.
“The next time you throw a knife at me, you better kill me with it,” Kitty snaps.
“I didn’t throw it at you. My aim is impeccable. Who do you think taught Cutter?” The image of the guy with the knife in his chest flashes behind my eyes.
“My brother taught Cutter.” Kitty reminds him, with raised brows.
Callan’s also lethal with a blade. I find my attention slipping to the door he left through, aching to know where he is.
“Who do you think taught your brother?” He chortles.
I want to ask if Kitty knows where her brother went, but I don’t want her asking any questions.
Is he in his room with her?
No. I refuse to be that woman.
“So…” I slide onto a stool, drawing her attention away from the old perv in the corner. “Diamond knows about you two?” The bar is smooth black marble, offering a cool surface to rest upon. It’s a different vibe in here from the nighttime, it’s quiet, there’s no sultry pole dancers or drunk members filling the dance floor. You almost feel exposed.
“She’s had to cover for me a couple times.” She chews on her nail, a guilty shadow in her eyes.
“Tell me about Claire.”
“It grosses me out, so I hate thinking about it, but Claire was my dad’s girl.” Kitty says it so casually that it takes a moment to register the words.
I jerk my eyes to hers, my mouth dropping. “What?” She doesn’t look much older than us.
“Yeah.” She shivers. “She hung around here as a club bunny.”
“Club bunny, like Playboy?”
“No, a biker bed hopper.” She shrugs. “Club slut. Comes to party and fuck bikers.”
“Okay.” Makes more sense.
Waving her hand in the air, she says, “My dad favored her over the other club sluts. She was supposed to stay loyal to him even though he wouldn’t put her on the back of his bike. One night, she got pissed at him and cornered Cutter while he was wasted. He said he didn’t remember, but she became pregnant, so my dad made him marry her.”
“What the fuck?” That’s all I got because that is insanity.
Reaching over the bar, she snags a bottle of whiskey and chugs it back like it’s orange juice before handing it to me. “Well, suggested he marry her. Cutter came from a broken home and didn’t want to raise a kid that way, so he agreed.”
The burn of liquor sends a hot path down my throat, settling as a warm puddle in my stomach. “So, she pretty much tricked him into marriage?” I ask incredulously. “How did he know the kid was his and not your dad’s?”
“Dad got the snip after mom had me.” She snatches the bottle back and gulps an unhealthy amount down. She winces, shaking her head, before slamming it down on the bar.
“But who knows who else she slept with,” I say. I’ve seen women like her try to trap members before by winding up pregnant. They’re ruthless in their pursuit.
“I don’t know. Maybe she did get a paternity test. Cutter loves the kid and doesn’t like to talk about it with me.”
“Just likes to use you for pussy,” I grunt. Her face blanches, and I instantly wish I could stuff the words back into my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
I place a hand on her knee. She shrugs her shoulders. “No, you’re right. I’m an idiot, but…”
“You love him.” I sigh.
“Pathetic, right? Here I am warning you off Callan because he doesn’t settle down while I’m with a man who does—just not with me.”
“I wouldn’t call him settled if he’s in your bed and not hers. Do they even like each other?”
“He tells me they’re married in name only, yet here she is at his bedside.” Squeezing her eyes closed, she drops her head to the bar. “Do you think I’m an asshole?”
“What?” I kick her chair, making it screech across the floor a couple inches. “No. I think he’s an asshole.”
“Why doesn’t your brother date?” The question comes out of my mouth before it registers with my brain.
Cocking her head, she rolls her eyes and shifts her stool back into place. “I don’t know. He acts like no one’s good enough. He once admitted that he knew who he should be with and was waiting on her.”