Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I, ah, only if necessary,” I said, getting that little smile out of him that Triss had gotten out of the others.
“Alright. Tell us what happened,” McCoy demanded. Very calm, rational, and ‘just the facts, ma’am,’ like I’d said about him on one of the pages of the fan site. Despite never having met the man myself. I was kind of glad to know the website was accurate.
Triss relayed the layout of the day, then coming home to the alarm and broken glass.
“And you called us, not the cops,” McCoy said. It wasn’t exactly a question, but Triss answered anyway.
“You told us to,” she said, shrugging.
“Alright,” McCoy said, chewing the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out a solution. “Well, there isn’t much we can do tonight. But one of us can stay her—“
“They’re coming with us,” Donovan cut him off, making the other two men turn in his direction.
“Say that again?” McCoy asked, brows drawn low.
“We’re going to bring them back with us for the night. We can figure out a plan tomorrow.”
“Road trip to a biker clubhouse. I’m in!” Triss said, practically bouncing on her feet.
“Alright, easy there, killer,” Alaric said, reaching out toward her, and grabbing the gun, slipping the safety back on, and shaking his head at her.
He looked kind of… skinny.
I had been so overwhelmed by everything that I hadn’t really noticed until right then.
All accounts of him had said he was super fit. And, yeah, when you were a male exotic dancer, that kind of went with the territory. But he seemed a bit… thin. Maybe even a little gaunt.
“If we come, can someone take me to the shooting range?” she asked, eyes bright at the prospect.
“How do you know about the range?” Alaric asked, all charm with that boyish smirk on his face.
“I have my sources,” Triss said, eyes twinkling.
“You’re trouble, huh?” Alaric asked.
“Always,” she confirmed.
“Alright,” McCoy cut in. “Ladies, pack an overnight bag,” he said, waving around the room. “We will figure out how to secure the glass door for the time being.” They turned toward the door, but McCoy looked back at Donovan. “The fuck you going to do?” he asked with a small smirk. “Go sit your injured ass down somewhere.”
“Don’t forget to pack a bathing suit,” Triss said as she made her way out of my room to go back to her own room to pack her bag.
“Here,” I said to Donovan whose eyes did actually look pretty pained. “Sit,” I said, gesturing toward my bed.
I expected him to object, but he must have been hurting more than he was letting on, because he hobbled over and dropped down. With a couple of muffled curses.
“Ribs,” he explained.
“Oh, yeah,” I said with a knowing nod. As if I had any idea. The worst injury I’d ever sustained was a broken nail. “Do you have anything to take for it?” I asked.
“Yeah, the doctor hooked me up. Don’t worry about me,” he said.
But I was.
I couldn’t help it.
“Really, I’m alright,” he insisted. “A little road rash—“
“A little?” I asked with a pointed look at all the gauze.
“Fair enough,” he said with a small chuckle. There was a hammering sound coming from the main area of the house. The guys boarding up the glass doors with the wood my grandfather kept in the garage for exactly that purpose. “Pack your bag, sweetheart,” Donovan reminded me, shaking me out of my stupor.
“Right,” I agreed, going into my closet to grab the ‘weekender’ bag that Triss had bought me a few Christmases ago. As if I ever went anywhere for the weekend. But it was a nice gesture. And it had a pattern of books on it, so, clearly, it suited me.
With that, I grabbed some pajamas, inwardly fretting about not having anything a little more, I don’t know, classy, and a set of clothes for the following day as well.
“That’s it?” Donovan asked when I came back from the bathroom with my toothbrush, paste, a hairbrush, and deodorant.
“Yeah. I don’t usually wear a lot of makeup,” I said, shrugging. “Wait, here,” I said, rushing over when he struggled to get up off my too-soft mattress. “The bed swallows you,” I said, offering him my arm, and finding myself surprised when he leaned heavily on me to get up.
“You don’t have back problems sleeping on that?” he asked, then immediately winced. “Christ, I sound old saying shit like that, huh?”
“Probably,” I said, nodding. “But I actually do have back problems sleeping on it,” I admitted. “I remember every morning that I need to get a new one, but by the time lunch comes around, I forget all about it,” I said, shrugging.
“Ready?” McCoy asked when we walked out of my room, finding McCoy and Alaric standing there with two bags each.
“It’s one night, Triss,” I said, shaking my head at her.