Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
What the fuck was he going to do?
Of course he couldn’t rat out his brothers. If they ever found out, they’d kill him and every person he found dear to his life. And they always found out.
Every patched member of the club lived under that very fear.
Ray-Ray dating that bitch DA was still vibrating through their circles, the idea of retribution building. If Ray-Ray turned up dead tomorrow, no one would be surprised.
If the club found out Dev even pretended to walk this informant tightrope? Shit. He’d beg for death with how badly they’d torture his ass.
The only calming force in his life at the moment was the Harley between his thighs. He needed to ride more. A crucial decision if he planned to navigate the next few weeks.
Was there a chance he could find his way through all the chaos?
A better question. When was his old man’s last day on this planet?
The vengeance within him was so strong Dev had to push the thought away. The fear and hurt for Abi and Mae made his thought processes too unsteady. He’d deal with the problem of his old man next.
Dev took the turn into the ink shop’s parking lot, taking note of the different vehicles in the lot. He glanced in the mirror, watching his tail pass. The club prepared for these situations. It wouldn’t be easy for them to watch him, but he was certain the four pieces of surveillance equipment on his body, including his new cell phone, had him covered.
He’d have to be sneaky, and thoughtful, which was technically his specialty.
If he could keep the fucking pretty boy out of his goddamn traitorous head for more than fifteen seconds at a time, he’d be better off.
His body tightened, not in an angry, fuming kind of way. The accompanying sentimental emotion hit next. He pulled his bike into his designated parking spot, popped the kickstand in place with more force than necessary, and lifted off the bike. All the while, thinking about how he’d purposefully taunted Cash last night.
It did bother him for a fraction of a second that the others could see him too. Teasing Cash with what he’d never have again was worth his lack of privacy. If the others were turned on too, or even grossed out, it was an added bonus.
His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket. He almost didn’t answer for fear it was Cash. Outside of making Cash’s life a living hell, he refused to speak a single word to the man.
Curiosity got the best of him, and he pulled his phone out to see a San Diego number. He slid his finger across the screen.
“Yo.” Seemed greeting enough.
“Devilman? Parker.” He figured he should know the gravelly voice but didn’t.
“Yup.”
“We’re clutch, man.” Dev had no idea what the guy was talking about and couldn’t question it with all the surveillance. Cash and his boys were certain to be listening to the call.
“Bangin’,” he answered vaguely. Maybe that would cover whatever Parker was referring to.
“Yup.” The phone connection went dead. He’d have to reexamine what all that meant at a later date. See if he owed the guy anything.
“You sure are nice lookin’,” Millie said from the front door, holding it open for him. “I always like to watch you walk. You have a great strut.”
He grabbed the door and swiped a hand forward, urging her inside. She earned her way in first with that sweet compliment. “Quit butterin’ me up. You’re never takin’ another day off again. I hope you enjoyed it.”
She laughed, a hearty sound. “We have a full day ahead of us. You’re here early, we shouldn’t get behind.”
“About that…” He went around her to the pad at the desk. “Can you call Ollie Pecker and see if he knows someone of quality that can take some of these new clients for me? I gotta trim my schedule pretty quick.”
“What? Why? The girls?” Millie asked, rapid-fire.
The way she said it made it seem a good enough excuse for now. “Yeah. Sure. The girls. Tena’s a cunt.”
“She sure is.” She turned away to make that call.
He entered his passcode for access to the scheduling program, seeing the bookings, one right after another, for the next three days then again on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday after Thanksgiving. Jesus, all the money he’d be losing. Anger filled his soul again, thinking about all those bad reviews. He was gonna have to come up with a giant fucking lie to help pacify these customers.
“Ollie wants to talk to you,” Millie said, handing him her cell phone.
“Ollie, man. What’s good?” Dev said by way of a greeting. He swiped a finger over to the next week’s schedule and wanted to fist punch the screen. He was stacked with customers.
“Devilman…” He made the word into four syllables longer than necessary. “You need some help?”