Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
After minutes of the most intense make-out session I’ve had in my life, Western pulls away, his forehead pressing to mine. I open my eyes, staring at his wounded face as water pours down around us. He has his eyes closed, but even then, I can see how much he’s hurting. These men, they’re the only family he has. They’re his entire life. Losing one, for him, would be like losing a little piece of himself. Scanning his face, my heart aches, and my fingers itch to comfort him.
I watch as a lone tear slides down his cheek.
If you blink, you’d miss it.
But it’s not water. No. The water isn’t running down his face.
It’s a tear.
He’s crying.
I make a pained noise, unable to stop it.
The moment it leaves my lips, I close my eyes, knowing he’ll open his. If he knows I saw that, he’ll push me away harder than I’ve ever been pushed before.
Pulling back from me, his body leaves mine, and I’m left desperately wanting to cling to him and bring him back. I open my eyes and watch as he turns the water off and gets out. I follow him, silently, and he hands me a towel. We dry off and walk back out into the main living area, where he drops that towel and begins getting dressed.
He’s leaving again.
Of course he is ... This is his club.
“Got to go,” he murmurs, pulling on a pair of jeans. “Don’t leave.”
I hesitate, not entirely sure what “don’t leave” means.
“Okay,” I say, softly.
He glances at me. “Sleep. I’ll be back.”
He wants me to stay?
With him?
Here?
My heart swells, but I give him a simple nod.
He walks to the door once he’s pulled his shirt on and has slid his jacket back over his shoulders. When he reaches it, he turns and looks at me. “What you did tonight ... It won’t be forgotten.”
With that, he’s gone.
Did we just turn a corner?
I stand, entirely naked, for a few moments just processing what happened tonight. Not only did Western lose someone he cares about, but the police have more to do with it than people think. I dress myself and go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. My phone rings just as I’ve finished boiling the water. I walk over, glancing down at the number, and I know exactly who it is.
Bill.
Exhaling, and knowing I have to keep this act going, I answer it.
“Yes?”
“I heard there was a death at the club tonight. Shame.”
I have no doubt in my mind that they’re all working for the same person. Bill knew this was coming. His little act doesn’t fool anyone.
“Did you have a hand in this?”
“Would it matter if I did? You work for me, remember?”
I grind my teeth.
“Did you call to gloat or do you need something?”
“I need something. The club is busy right now, which means everything is yours for the taking. I know you’re still there. Go into that main office, I want information. I want to know what the club knows. Now is your chance to find that without being caught. I expect an answer within the hour.”
He hangs up, not giving me a chance to say anything more.
Closing my eyes, a long exhale leaves my lips.
So much for staying here and waiting for my wounded warrior to return.
I drink my tea, run my fingers through my damp hair, and then make my way out of the shed and down to the clubhouse. Everyone is standing in a circle in the middle of the open garage, discussing something. I can’t help but notice they’ve got guns shoved in the backs of their jeans. They’re going out, and they’re going hunting. Hunting for the person who took Trader’s life. It’s Colt who notices me first, and his eyes flare.
“I’m not here to listen in,” I say, and everyone turns to stare at me, a line of empty bikers’ eyes pinning me to the spot, “but Bill is demanding I sneak in and get information while you’re all busy. I know it’s not the time, and I’m sorry, but he’s given me an hour.”
Western looks like he wants to go and hunt Bill down right now and crush him with his bare hands, but, instead, he answers me in a gruff voice. “Tell him you found some papers givin’ a location, and on that paper, was a name. He’ll go on the hunt, might even give him a lead, but it won’t be enough to ever fuckin’ get near this club.”
Swallowing, I nod, pulling out my phone to write it down.
“Hit me.”
Western rattles off a location, a name and some other information about a safety deposit box. I write it all down, and then nod. “I’m sorry to have interrupted.”
“Heard you defended my boy tonight,” Colt calls as I turn to walk away.