Ice Read Online Chelsea Camaron, Jessie Lane (Regulators MC #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Dark, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Regulators MC Series by Chelsea Camaron
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
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Bile rises up in my throat at her words. How easily she tosses us aside for not fitting her mold. What kind of sick, twisted spin has she given herself in her head to justify this?

Looking around one last time, I realize this is a lost cause. I don’t know how or when yet, but I need to speak to Mallory then possibly find a lawyer. There is no way I can leave my other sister to suffer this nightmare anymore. My parents have gone from delusional and self-involved to deranged. First, however, I have to find Madyson.

Without another word, I turn and leave. Like a robot, I walk to my car, get in, and drive without truly thinking about what I am doing or where I am going. Instinctively, I end up at After Midnight. I don’t know why I came here, only that I can’t go home and find my place empty yet again. Any time I try to do it, the pain I feel from the silence of my house manifests so profoundly I feel like I am being stabbed in the heart. My chest seizes up, and I end up crying till I pass out because I am still not sleeping at night due to the fear for Madyson.

Spotting Casey’s car in the back lot, I find relief in being able to see her. Timorously, I make my way to the club entrance.

The burly man at the door does nothing to ease my mood. He towers over me with his beard and huge frame. The black leather vest he wears has a patch that says Hulk on it. Hulk he is, that’s for sure.

“Whatcha need, darlin’? You applyin’ for a job?” he greets me with a grin.

“I… I… I’m here to see Casey,” I stammer stupidly.

“Can’t let ya in that easy.”

Oh, my God! He wouldn’t dare expect sexual favors from me to get in, right? Last time I came in the back door. I should have done that this time, too. I was such a mess the guy at the back door didn’t even question me especially with Casey with me. I should have just called her to come escort me inside.

My fear must show when the man lets out a hearty laugh letting me know he was joking with me. “Go on in. Don’t know if she’ll have clothes on or not. If that’s your thing, it’s hot. Have a good time, sugar tits.”

Rather than bark back at him and his last remark, I walk through the door he holds open for me.

When I walk through to the back, the sight before me makes me halt in my tracks. What is the phrase? What has been seen cannot be unseen? That is exactly how I feel right now. Everywhere I look, women are in some stage of undress. Some are taking off their clothes, while others are taking off their stage costumes to put their clothes on. All of them make me feel insecure about my own body. Not to mention, the state of the room sends my OCD into high gear.

There is stuff everywhere. Clothes on the floor and vanity chairs. Bags and purses on the floors against the walls instead of hanging on the hooks or lockers provided to them. I watch as one woman throws a stiletto at another woman, which causes a catfight. It is pure pandemonium. How the heck does my best friend work in this every day? It would drive me nuts to be back here, even if I did have the guts to strip naked on a stage in front of strange men.

I scan the women, bending my head this way and that to look around those who are standing up in front of others and those who are sitting at the vanities, putting on their make-up.

I am still searching for Casey in the dressing rooms when I hear his voice. I shiver and my veins run cold. Is that why they call him Ice? Does he have this effect on everyone? Even with our newfound truce, I am far from comfortable with him.

I am barely keeping myself together when Ice is suddenly standing in front of me.

“Morgan, are you okay?” The tone in his voice is laced with compassion, care, understanding, and kindness. There is not one trace of the broody, anger-enriched, aggravated tones of the past.

Using my hands, I cover my face to hide the tears that are threatening to fall as I stand there silently. When his two strong arms embrace me, pulling me into his solid chest, I lose it completely. All the emotions I have tried and failed to contain spill out on his black leather vest. His hands softly rub my back in an attempt to soothe while I continue to sob helplessly in his arms.


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