Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Sure,” I say, closing the door behind us. “Let’s get this finished up and we’ll talk on the way out.”
“Sounds good.” He smiles as he pulls off his sunglasses.
Fucker is wearing a three-piece suit in the middle of fucking summer, and it’s a black suit. How the guy isn’t fucking dying of heat exhaustion, I have no clue, but he isn’t even breakin’ a sweat from what I can see.
“Jesus, man, don’t you ever wear normal clothes?” I ask him as I lead him into the house.
“Not really,” he says to my back as we reach the living room.
Immediately, both Levi and Allie tense up when Jude walks into the room and fear flashes in their eyes.
“Allie?” I ask to get her attention.
My hand is slowly sliding toward my holster.
Does she recognize him?
“Huh?” she says and shakes her head to stop staring fearfully at Jude.
My hand is about to pull the gun free when Jude frowns at the room.
“Mrs. Baker, Levi,” Jude says with a nod, and I’m not spottin’ anything on his face beyond concern.
We all stand in place for a moment, and I can see Grem has caught on to the tension immediately. His hand going for his gun, he pulls it slowly out of its holster.
“What’s going on, guys?” Tampon asks as he plops down next to Levi and pokes his stomach.
“He looks like a bad guy,” Levi says loudly and points at Jude.
“Levi!” Allie says with a scolding, embarrassed tone. “Don’t be rude like that. We don’t know this man.”
Jude’s been watching me and Grem though and I’m bettin’ he’s reading his own obituary right now.
“No?” I ask as I slowly let my gun slide back into the holster.
Looking at me, Allie shakes her head ever so slightly. “No. I’m so sorry, where are my manners?”
Standing up from the couch, Allie walks over to my side and says, “Hi, I’m Allie.”
“I’m Jude,” he says and then looks to Grem and me. “I’ll wait outside.”
Hugging Levi, I kiss him on his head before I drag Allie into the kitchen and ask her, “What was that about?”
“He… He startled me. I’m not used to seeing men like him in suits around here,” she answers, still looking disturbed and uncomfortable.
“Like him?” I ask.
“Yeah, he’s… He’s like Mikhail’s men, and like, well… you guys,” she says with a small shudder.
Pulling her to my chest, I hug her tightly. “Jude’s a good guy.”
“Are you sure?” she asks and holds onto me like I’m her lifeline.
“Yeah. He’s as dangerous as a fox in the henhouse, but he’s our fox in the henhouse,” I say while kissing the top of her head.
“He has dead eyes, Coy. Like there isn’t anything there behind them,” she whispers.
I wonder if I did too before Allie came back into my world.
“He can be trusted, Allie,” I say and hug her again before pulling away. “I gotta get going though, got a club issue to take care of.”
Leaning down, I kiss those plump bits of heaven she calls lips.
Chapter Twenty
Allie
It takes me a long time to relax after Coy leaves the house. That Jude guy… The moment I laid eyes on him I swear my heart stopped beating. All the fears I’ve shoved down about Mikhail rose up inside me with a fucking vengeance.
One glance. It only took me one glance to recognize that Jude’s connected. Made men have a look about them I can spot from a mile away. A slick, oily look that often leaves a bad aftertaste in my mouth.
Even Levi trembled in fear beside me.
The only thing that kept me from completely freaking the fuck out and going batshit crazy was Coy and Grem reaching for their guns.
As insane as it is, for a moment I was terrified that for some awful reason Coy was going to hand us over to Mikhail.
I know he wouldn’t, but terror can make you unreasonable and stupid. And it was pure, icy terror pumping in my veins when I took in Jude’s cold, empty eyes.
Cold, empty eyes that looked just like Mikhail’s eyes when he would play with me…
Shaking my head, I stand from where I’ve been sitting on the couch beside Levi and walk into the kitchen. Needing something to do, a way to keep busy, I start making sandwiches for everyone.
When I call the guys in for dinner, the suspicious, untrusting looks on their faces is enough to pull me out of my funk.
“What?” I ask and put a hand on my hip when I watch them approach the kitchen table like they’re afraid the sandwiches I made them are going to bite them or something.
Tampon is the first one brave enough or stupid enough to ask, “Did we do something wrong, ma’am?”
Gritting my teeth for a second at being called ma’am again, I doubt I’ll ever get used to it and like it, I say, “No, why?”