Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37111 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
I shut and locked the door to the surprisingly spacious bathroom. There wasn’t a tub, but the shower was huge. Just like he’d promised, there was soap and shampoo. No conditioner, but I’d make do without it. I was just grateful for the shower. It was the first real scrub I’d had in weeks. My hair more than anything was really enjoying the cleaning. It had become a tangled mess. I’d just braided it as tightly as I could to keep it from turning into a complete rat’s nest.
Stepping out, I reached for a towel and dried myself. I’d lost weight during my long-ass hike. I could see my ribs as I glanced at myself in the mirror. I tried to ignore it, but it was no use. I knew my clothes fit looser, but this was ridiculous. Also, my neck was now sporting dark red bruises, thanks to my asshole father. I’d have to be careful. Really feel these guys out. If there were more here who had Sword’s temperament, I could be in worse trouble than I’d been in before.
Though my hair now felt like heaven, by far the best thing in that bathroom was the toothbrush and toothpaste. That was the bomb! Of course, then I realized I’d probably tasted awful to Deadeye. I mean, I’d brushed my teeth, courtesy of the little disposable toothbrushes I’d had in my pocket. I’d kept them until there wasn’t much left, the five-pack lasting well beyond what they should have. But I’d still brushed my teeth. Just sans toothpaste. I groaned. My humiliation was now complete.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, there was a change of clothes on the bed. Underwear still in the pack, a soft pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. I had no shoes, but really, I didn’t need them inside the compound. I’d thought I’d do like Deadeye suggested and take a nap before he returned, but my curiosity got the better of me. It was my fatal flaw. It was that same curiosity that had me listening to my mother and father argue over giving me to Sting. They hadn’t told me the reason for the visit to the Iron Tzars clubhouse, but once inside, after I’d met Sting, I’d lost myself in the throng of people and snuck out.
The way I saw it, that arrangement was a no-win situation for me. If Sting accepted me, I’d continually be put between my mother and my husband. That could land me in big trouble with the club. Sting as well. Which meant he’d have to take care of me. I doubt bikers like him did it with a simple spanking. Or even a beating. He’d disappear me where no one would ever find my body. On the other hand, if he rejected me, I’d be humiliated. It could even trigger the rest of the club to take their fill of me. At least, that’s what I’d heard could happen. Either way, I’d split. And ended up here. Might as well take a look at my surroundings in case I needed to make a quick getaway.
I left the room, walking down the hallway to the stairs. The building was laid out in a square with rooms on either side of the hallway, the hall coming around the perimeter to meet itself. It was more like a hotel than an MC clubhouse.
When I rounded the corner, I nearly tripped over Sword. He was seated with his back to a closed door, his knees bent and his forearms resting on them. As I scrambled back, he looked up at me and winced.
“Hey, girl.”
“My name’s Chloe.” The very last thing I wanted to do was confront Sword. He didn’t want me around, and I could now say the feeling was definitely mutual. The man was a serious ass. I eyed him warily.
“Yeah.” He winced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. Chloe.”
I started back down the hall and go to the stairs from another direction, but he called out to me. “Maybe we started this all wrong, Chloe.”
“No shit,” I muttered.
“Can we start over?”
I shook my head. “Not interested.”
“Come on, girl -- er, Chloe.” He stood, looking contrite and like it actually mattered to him if I rejected him or not, and held out a hand to me. Like he fully expected me to take his freaking hand! “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
“You think?” I took another step back, putting a hand out defensively. “Stay back, Sword.”
“I ain’t gonna hurt you.”
I tilted my head so there was no way he could fail to see the reddish-blue bruising he’d put on my neck. “All evidence to the contrary.”
Sword turned his head away, shaking it slightly as he winced. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.” His voice was low and husky. “I’m sorry, Chloe. You didn’t deserve my anger.”