Breathing (Ruined #6) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Ruined Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
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I bared my teeth at her. She just smirked and left the room, slamming my door behind her. I clenched my hands into fists at my sides.

I had no idea what to do with her. Especially since she didn’t back down from me like so many other women would have. She had a fire burning inside of her. A fight that wouldn’t be deterred.

Trouble.

I should have never touched her or allowed her to touch me.

Because now I was in fucking deep.

5

Whiler

“Need you, Ink, and Vern to handle this exchange,” Joey said from his position at the head of the table. I arched a brow at him. “You should be able to leave after church and make it back before dark. Small weapons exchange. New crew that just rose up.”

“What do we know about them?” I asked.

“Crew of five people. All brothers,” Ink spoke up to answer my question. “They reached out to us first—wanted to come to some sort of agreement so they aren’t stepping on our toes. They agreed to only buy their weapons from us, and if they decided to expand, they wouldn’t touch us or risk war.”

I nodded once. That was smart of them. Instead of like so many other crews who had tried and failed to set up shop near us, they sought us out to make us an ally. I had mad respect for that. “They know who we have backing us?”

Vern snorted. “Who doesn’t know?”

After rolling my eyes at him, I looked at Joey. “Fine by me. We’ll ride out just as soon as we’re done here.”

He nodded and looked at everyone else. “Anyone got anything to bring to the table?” When no one spoke up, he slammed his gavel and pushed back from the table, standing up. The rest of us followed suit. He looked at the three of us about to ride out. “Be careful. Stay safe, and keep me updated. We don’t know these guys, so stay sharp.”

I nodded once and strode out of the chapel, heading for the gravel lot outside. I straddled my bike and started it up, strapping my helmet to my head as I waited for Ink and Vern to make their way out. Within a couple of minutes, we were on the road.

And all the silence meant I had nothing else to do but think about Cannon and what the fuck we’d done.

Growling under my breath, I tightened my grip and focused more on the road, the wind, the roar of my engine, and the sound of the asphalt beneath my tires. Otherwise, I would drive myself insane.

I stood back with my arms crossed over my chest as I watched Ink handle the exchange. Vern and I were merely muscle, which was fine with me. The less I had to talk to anyone, the better.

The old me would have jumped at the opportunity to socialize. But the old me was dead. He died when I heard my little sister scream for the very last time.

“Your men don’t speak?” one of the Asian guys spoke up. He seemed to be the oldest of the Khan brothers and the one in charge.

“We speak,” Vern told him, not bothered in the slightest by his rude and out-of-line question. “Just no reason for us to do so.”

He looked at me next. I simply arched a brow at him. The fuck did he want me to say? I didn’t know him, and I didn’t owe him shit. He grunted and looked back at Ink, shaking his hand. “Let Joey know we’ll be in touch.”

Ink nodded once. “Will do.”

We waited until they left before we got on our bikes and headed back to the clubhouse. I was in need of relief, especially after that exchange. Dealing with anyone new left my muscles feeling too tight, and this time hadn’t been any different. Just because Joey and Ink knew the Khan brothers didn’t mean I did. And it certainly didn’t mean I trusted them either.

I didn’t trust anyone outside of this family. I even held the Fathers of Mayhem at a distance. They weren’t Sons of Hell members—weren’t real family.

When we got back to the clubhouse, I headed into the kitchen to find something to eat before I went searching for some kind of release, whether it was tight pussy or a warm, wet mouth. A club girl was bent over the dishwasher when I walked in, and she straightened when she heard me enter.

She was pretty enough. Definitely new. Probably just a hang-around, to be honest. Blonde hair hung around her face, framing it perfectly, and her makeup was heavily done, hiding any blemishes she might’ve had. A pair of blue jean shorts rode up her ass, and she had on a crop top that might as well have just been a swimsuit top. Strappy, black heels added an extra six inches to her height. She was probably from the local strip club. Joey used to own it, but he sold it a while back after Alejandro became heavily involved with our club. We could launder our money through him now.


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