Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Right then, everything changed between them.
All the obligation he’d had that drove him back into his father’s life vanished. Keyes saw a moment of true fear in his father’s eyes. The old man had clamped his mouth closed, finally shutting the fuck up, and swung the oxygen tank at him in retaliation. He hit Keyes in the arm. He didn’t have the force to budge Key from his stance.
The residual Alec-high plummeted, violently dropping him back into the reality of his fucked-up life. There had to be skid marks burned into his flesh with how fast his good mood had tanked. This was bullshit. His life was bullshit. Keyes was trash that came from the sorriest piece of trash on this goddamn planet. His old man must have found his voice with the way that abusive mouth moved, but Keyes didn’t register one single word. The blood was rushing too loudly through his veins.
Instead of staying there, risking the chance that his fist might actually connect to his father’s sorry ass face, Keyes pivoted, kicking one tire with enough force to send it across the concrete floor as he stalked out of the building. Mr. Fancy scurried out of his way, which was the right fucking thing to do. Keyes wanted to ram his fist down the guy’s throat for nothing more than being a far more appropriate choice for Alec to fuck than slumming it with the likes of Key.
About as pissed off as he could be, Keyes jumped on his bike and headed out. The fifteen-minute ride took ten. At almost full throttle, he pulled into the club’s compound. On one side sat the clubhouse and on the other was Fox’s custom bike sales and ink parlor. A place Fox and Devilman owned together. He pushed through the front doors, finding little comfort in the fact they weren’t busy at all. Fox’s old lady met him at the door.
“Hey, Key.” Her smile faded as she got a good look at him. “You okay?”
“Fox around?” he managed, without jumping down her throat for something that didn’t involve her. The ride hadn’t helped his attitude one bit. His head was crazy, his thoughts all over the place, and he’d met his threshold of bullshit. He was done. He couldn’t take another minute of his life.
“Yeah, let me get him.”
He felt caged and took off for the front parking lot, then rounded toward the side of the building for some privacy. He’d spent as much time in this shop as he had his own.
“What’s up?” Fox said from behind him. He hadn’t even heard Fox arrive, and Fox wasn’t a quiet man. That spoke volumes to how fucked in the head he had become.
“I need to move into the clubhouse,” he said. Not the first thing he’d planned to say, but it still needed to happen.
“Okay. Problems?” Fox asked, looking as concerned as his old lady had.
“Same shit. I need somebody there with my old man. He keeps tryin’ to light up and smoke around that fuckin’ tank. He’s gonna blow himself up,” Keyes said, ticking off the points of why he was there in the first place.
“We can take care of that. Get some prospects over there. You’re really agitated,” Fox said, his hands going to his waist, but he kept his distance. Good fucking call on his part.
“He’s just being more of an ass than usual. Can you keep him occupied during the day? Give me some time? I can’t listen to that mouth another goddamn minute,” he added, ending the list that had driven him all the way over there.
“That’s not a problem. You know you can’t take anything he says to heart. Smoke says that shit because he’s so dependent on you. He’d’ve never survived—”
“I owe you,” Keyes said, cutting the club’s president off. Yeah, this was what made his biker brothers his family. He wouldn’t have survived his life without Fox and his family always looking out for him. He didn’t need to be told what his father couldn’t seem to figure out. He got it, but he was still totally done.
“Speakin’ of that. What are you doin’ tonight?” Fox asked as Keyes headed for his bike.
“What’d you need?” he asked, partially turning to look the other man in the eye, still in a very foul mood, but he owed his president his undivided attention.
“I got a run,” Fox said, code for a secret, as in only a limited number of his brothers knew anything about, drug deal. “I need you, Mack, and Dev there. It’s a big one. We need the cash to fight all this shit.”
He gave a single nod of acceptance. “What time?”
“I’ll text you.”
Keyes nodded again in confirmation, continuing toward his bike.
“I’ll call your old man over now, keep him here for a while. Let the dust settle.”