Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Do you have a fucking plan?”
“Do I need a fucking plan?” I ask, turning my gaze at him for a second.
BISHOP is sewn onto a patch on the upper left part of his leather vest.
“I figured you and your buddy over there had something in the works.”
“Buddy?”
I follow the point of his finger, shaking my head when I see Donavan’s sneering face glaring at the front door of the hotel.
“He’s not my buddy.”
“You two just happen to work for the same guy,” Bishop says in a way that tells me he’d never believe a word I ever said, so I don’t bother explaining that we’re more like fucking subcontractors. Angel isn’t our fucking boss.
“Is it too much to ask that you guys just fucking leave?”
I scoff at his question.
“I know what it’s like,” he says, his eyes staring up at the third floor, as if he’s watching for someone in particular.
I remain silent. I’m not this guy’s fucking friend.
“Spending time with someone in a shitty situation can make a man think all sorts of crazy shit. I did it once. Spent half a day in the sandpits, thinking I was going to die.”
I sigh in irritation but it doesn’t stop this man from talking.
“Thought I was so fucking in love with the woman I experienced that with. Got one night with her. Best night of my fucking life.”
“And let me guess. She played the ‘friends’ card the next day and even though you’ve been shut down, you still can’t help but hope that she’s going to end up yours one day?”
I roll my head on the seat and look over at him, wanting to chuckle at the way his jaw works, telling me I got it right.
“She’s got a man,” he says. “Fucking laugh it up now. My point—”
“Don’t give a fuck about your point,” I say, not bothering to offer a goodbye before hitting the button in the door to roll up the window.
I wait until the biker gets back to his post right inside the hotel door before stepping out of my truck and making my way in Donavan’s direction.
I saw something I was hoping I’d misread in his eyes last night when he was looking at Alani, but apparently, my sixth sense was working just fine. Whatever it means needs to be shut down really fucking quick.
Donavan gives me a look that tells me he isn’t exactly up for visitors right now, and I know I won’t get shit out of him. Approaching him is exactly like that Bishop fucker approaching me. It made no difference the effort he put in, trying to explain why it’s better to just leave Ayla alone. I’ll only be wasting my breath on Donavan.
I change course, heading into the lobby of the hotel.
I feel Bishop’s eyes on my back as I step up to the coffee urns like I own the place. Let one of these motherfuckers tell me to get lost.
In fact, I pray they do. I have some seriously pent-up anger I’d like to take out on one of their faces.
Just to spite all the leather-wearing assholes floating in and out of the lobby, I fill my coffee cup and take a seat on one of the couches. I hate the way Bishop grins when I can’t manage to keep the wince of pain off my face completely as I settle in.
For all my bravado, I know it’s very unlikely I’d win in a fight against any of these massive fuckers.
I sip my coffee, my eyes on the elevator, wondering if they’re going to sneak her out through one of the fire exits rather than having her walk right past me.
Chapter 35
Ayla
My throat burns from talking and crying last night. I hardly slept. Although I didn’t bother Alani in the other room, when I see her this morning, I don’t think she got much sleep either.
Her eyes are as red and puffy as mine were when I looked in the mirror.
She confessed to feeling extremely guilty for talking to me the way she did, for not letting me explain, and for being so quick to judge.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t tell her it was okay. I didn’t coddle her and lie that everyone would’ve acted the way she did. I love my sister, and I think I’ve proven that by the things I’ve done to protect her. I also deserve better than what I got from her. With our parents’ deaths, we were put in an unimaginable position. Not to sound like I have an overinflated ego, but I feel like I’ve done a pretty damn decent job in taking care of her to this point, most current situation notwithstanding.
She hands me a cup of coffee with a weak smile.
“I went down and got these from the lobby. Breakfast is already over.”