Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“You have that tattooed over your heart.”
His head jerked back. “Yeah.” He hadn’t realized she’d inspected his tattoos that closely.
“How long have you been a member?”
“Long time. Now, enough with the fuckin’ questions.” He reached for the door handle. “Stick close, got me? Want you in my sight at all times.”
She pulled back on his hand. “Is it dangerous?”
“No. But you’re fresh meat an’ some of the hang-arounds an’ prospects might come sniffin’.”
She frowned. “Sniffing?”
“Any of ‘em get pushy, you yell for me. Might think you’re one of my girls.”
“You bring the dancers here?”
“Normally, yeah.”
“To do what? Entertain?”
Dawg yanked open the door and the music being piped into church from the outside courtyard hit them hard since the volume was louder than normal. But then Dirty Deed’s, Nash’s band, was playing I Drink Alone by George Thorogood. So that made sense. That was always a turn-it-up-to-full-blast song.
“Yeah, baby girl, they entertain,” he finally answered her what-felt-like-millionth question as he dragged her inside.
The pool tables were occupied, a dart game was in full swing, and there was a crowd around the club’s private bar.
A voice yelled out from the left. “Dawg, where’s your girls? You only brought one tonight?”
Dawg’s eyes narrowed as he swung his gaze in that direction. It landed on Badger, one of the newer prospects.
“Stand right there,” Dawg said in a low voice to Emma. “Don’t move, got me?”
He released her hand and moved toward the pool table before she could answer.
He snapped his fingers high in the air to get the attention of all the prospects playing pool. “Listen up an’ listen good. See her?”
All eyes left him and landed on Emma, who surprisingly still stood exactly where he left her.
That was at least the second time today that she actually listened to him. Imagine that. A woman that followed directions. They were hard to come by.
“Asked you assholes a question. Didn’t hear an answer yet.”
“Yeahs” came from the wet-behind-the-ears bikers around the table.
“Ain’t touchin’ her.” Dawg heard a few complaints muttered.
“She ain’t off limits if she’s a stripper,” Badger claimed. “Can’t touch the sweet butts, but was told your girls are fair game.”
Dawg pinned him with his gaze. “She’s off limits,” he clarified slowly to make sure they did not mistake his meaning.
“Brother, why d’you bring ‘er if we can’t touch the fresh m—”
Before Badger finished his question, Dawg had fingers wrapped tightly around the newest recruit’s throat. Eyes wide, his hands came up instinctively and clawed at Dawg’s wrists.
“Prospect, you questionin’ me? Need a reminder you’re lower than a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of my fuckin’ boot?” Dawg pushed the prospect away by his neck and Badger stumbled back. “Makin’ this super fuckin’ easy. She talks to you first, you can answer. She don’t, don’t say a fuckin’ word to her. Got me?” He waited for their answers. “Got me?” he bellowed.
“Got yous” and “yeahs” answered him.
He nodded, then strode back to Emma, who watched him with her eyebrows so high they were clinging to her hairline.
“You need anything. Anything. Your toenails painted. Air in your tires. Mud cleaned off your shoes by one of their tongues. Get any one of ‘em that’s wearin’ a vest that says ‘prospect’ to do it. They say no, you tell me. Got me?”
“Got you,” she whispered, her gaze bouncing off each of the prospects as they went back to their pool game. She grabbed his arm and leaned in closer. “So what’s a prospect?”
“A nobody.”
“Doesn’t Moose wear one of those vests?”
“Yeah. Moose’s a good one. He’s gonna make it. Some of those over there won’t.”
“Are they like a frat pledge?”
“A what?”
“Never mind.” She shook her head then turned it toward the front of the room. “Why is everyone looking at us?”
He grinned. “’Cause you’re fuckin’ beautiful. An’ they’re jealous you ain’t with them.”
“Dawson...”
“Fuck!” he barked. He lowered his voice. “Don’t call me that here.”
“Why?”
“Just don’t.”
She grinned up at him. “Are you going to say please?”
“Fuck no.” He grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the private bar. “Let’s go. People you gotta meet.”
People she “gotta meet.” There sure were a lot of them. Her head was spinning with all the names and faces, both men and women alike. All staring at her with curiosity and also glancing at Dawg with sly, knowing looks.
Which she had no idea what that could be about.
The best part was when she got to hold the cutest baby named Zeke. She had no problem remembering his name. Emma had shoved her nose into his downy hair and inhaled deeply. She missed that sweet baby smell.
From what she gathered, this was the MC’s clubhouse and some of the members lived upstairs, some lived other places, like Dawg. Dawg had also shown her the public bar at the front of the property, The Iron Horse Roadhouse. When she was being introduced to some of the bikers, she was told who ran what. Like a body shop and a towing company. And Zeke’s mother, Sophie, ran a bakery with another woman who had dark long hair.