Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“You still good with going to the grocery?”
“Of course.”
“Good deal.” I started putting the liquor bottles back in the cabinet as I told her, “I’ll leave you some cash on the counter.”
“You won’t be here?”
“Afraid not... I’ve gotta get to the clubhouse first thing, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll leave you a key so you can come and go and all that.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” She lingered for a moment, then turned and started out of the room. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
“You, too.”
I finished putting the bottles away and then headed to my room. After a long, hot shower, I put on a clean pair of boxers and collapsed on the bed. It had been a long day, but as soon as I closed my eyes, my mind drifted to Jenna. There was so much about her that intrigued me.
Her laughter echoed in my ears, her smile was etched in my mind’s eye, and the warmth of her eyes still lingered on my skin. There was no doubt about it. She was getting to me. I couldn’t seem to help myself. She’d been through so much, but she hadn’t let it destroy her. She’d kept fighting.
A man like me had no business giving her a second thought, so I forced myself to shake her from my mind. It wasn’t easy. Hell, I tossed and turned until my sheets tangled around my legs, but thankfully, my exhaustion eventually kicked in and I was able to finally sleep.
The next morning, I got up early and threw on my clothes. On the way out, I left Jenna the key to the house, some cash, and a note with my number on it, letting her know to call if she needed anything. I grabbed a juice from the fridge and was on my way.
Once outside, I walked over to my bike and swung my leg over my Harley. We were still in the thick of winter, but one of the many advantages of living in the south was our mild weather. There were only a few weeks out of the year that were either too cold or too hot for riding, and even then, there are those who tough it out.
On that cold morning, I couldn’t imagine getting into a cage, so I turned the key and let the engine roared to life. Its rumble echoed through the quiet streets of my neighborhood, but I wasn’t all that worried about the noise. I’d been living there long enough for my neighbors to know it was me backing out of the drive.
The cool morning air bit my skin as I started towards the clubhouse, but I liked it. It helped wake me up and get the blood pumping. By the time the clubhouse came into view, I was feeling ready to face the day. The feeling quickly faded when I pulled through the gate, and Creed and several of the brothers were talking in the parking lot.
It was early—way too early for Ghost and Skid to be there unless something was wrong. I quickly parked and killed the engine. There was a notable tension in the air as I dismounted my bike and made my way over to the group. The conversation halted as they turned to acknowledge my arrival. “Hey, what the hell is going on?”
Silence lingered for a moment before Ghost stepped forward and announced, “Memphis is in the ER.”
“What?” My pulse quickened. “Why am I just hearing about this?”
“We just found out ourselves.” Ghost hesitated, exchanging a glance with Creed before answering, “Apparently, he’s been there for a couple of hours.”
“For what?”
“He’s pretty sure he broke his hand.”
“Quit giving me bits and pieces. I wanna know what the fuck happened.”
“He and Goose went out last night to blow off some steam, and apparently, he ran into a couple of the Brass Kings. One of them got to mouthing, not sure who, but one thing led to another, and they got into a brawl.
“Damn.” I looked around, searching the lot for Preacher’s bike, but saw no sign of it. “Does Preacher know?”
“Yeah, he left a few minutes ago to go see about him.”
“Fuck. This is the last thing he needs right now.”
“There’s more.”
“Of course there is,” I grumbled with a shake of my head. “Spill it.”
“There are whispers of a retaliation from the Kings.”
“A retaliation for what?”
“From the sounds of it, Memphis did a real number on one of their guys—broke his nose and collar bone and couple of ribs which ended up puncturing his lung. Dude is barely hanging on, and they’re pissed.”
Memphis had barely spoken two words since his brother’s death. The guilt that festered in the pit of my stomach churned at the thought. I knew it had fucked him up. Hell, it fucked us all up, but Memphis was a ticking time bomb, waiting for a chance to blow. That chance came last night, and he took it.