Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Jesus Christ, man.” Preacher shakes his head, exasperation on his face. “Let’s go find a place to hole up. There’s got to be a motel or something. No club chapters nearby, and I’m not riding three hours back to the clubhouse if we’re just gonna ride back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure,” Crash follows us to the bikes, but he keeps looking over his shoulder, and from across the street, Summer watches us go.
6
SUMMER
Two days since we buried Vivian, and it still doesn’t feel real. I’m numb. Tired.
Dad’s been a nightmare since the funeral. He’s furious at being upstaged by Crash and his friends, and it’s a cold sort of fury. I can’t do anything right. There are bruises on my wrist from how hard he held me by his side at the burial, but it’s the silence and small biting comments that are really painful. I should be up, getting ready for Vivian’s remembrance dinner, but I’m hiding in my room, staring at the ceiling. There are still fluorescent star stickers on it from when I was young, even if they’re yellowed and fading now. It’s a time capsule from when I was thirteen and Vivian convinced Dad to let me redecorate.
Crash and his biker friends are around. I’m sure of it. I haven’t seen them, but at least a couple of times a day, I hear the roar of motorcycles riding by. It might not be them, I guess, but my gut says it is. That they’re making sure we know they’re still here.
Why? What does he want?
I could ask. I pick up my phone and look at his name at least a half dozen times a day. But what would I say? “Hey, how’s it going? Shoot anyone lately? By the way, why’d you kiss me?”
I touch my lips, remembering his heat, the earthy scents of sweat and leather. Remembering how soft his lips had been against mine, and the possessive way he held me in place so he could make my toes curl in front of what feels like the whole world. All of my world anyway, which is both bigger and smaller than I’d like.
It was the hottest kiss of my life.
My crush on Jacob was a small, childish thing, and when he ran away, it let me safely hold on to the feeling. He wasn’t there to mess up and make me hate him for being a real person, and Dad hated him. It was like candy to teenage me. So yeah, it kinda hurts more than it maybe should that he came back as a big bad biker and used me to make a point.
Was I expecting him to save himself for me? No, but that kiss was from a man who knows his way around a woman’s body—confident and aggressive.
I’m still just me, a girl with a lot more imagination than experience.
There’s a knock on my door. “Summer, are you ready for me?”
Ugh. Titania is fine. I’m just not in the mood to get turned into an airbrushed version of myself. But I’m also not in the mood to make Dad even angrier than he already is. He hates when we get caught out of the house looking less than perfect. I swear he has an entire album of awful photos of me to rub my nose in when I argue.
“Yeah, one sec.”
Two and a half hours later, Dad, Grayson and I are in the back of his limo, on our way to La Cuisine des Étoiles, the fanciest restaurant in all of downtown. He watches my spending like a hawk, but if it’s for him? It’s not wasteful, it’s a demonstration of prosperity.
The way Grayson looks at me from the opposite seat makes me feel naked, and not in a good way. The dress Titania put me in is daringly modern. Deep red, bare arms, a figure hugging skirt that comes to my mid calves, a hint of actual cleavage, heels. It’s insane compared to how I’m usually styled. When I asked what the change was about, she said Dad requested it. I want to be happy about not looking like a frumpy kid, but if it’s part of a plan to push me more to the forefront now that Vivian is gone? I’d rather go back to the old-fashioned dresses they had me in before.
I tug the skirt of my dress, trying to make it a little less sexy.
Dad smiles.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Just admiring what a beautiful young woman you’ve grown up to be. Children are a blessing.”
What’s going on? He’s sounding almost like a caring father, and that comes through so rarely my first reaction is suspicion. “Thank you?”
He and Grayson share a look and chuckle. Am I the butt of the joke here? I’ve got a sinking feeling, even if I can’t explain it.