Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Part of me wants to chastise myself for grouping him in with the men I’d seen with my brother, but I also need to remember Lucias had plans to hurt my brother. That he’d sent someone to break into my home, and now I’m locked in his bedroom and he keeps referring to me as his property. I want to smack him every time he says it, and I’m not sure if it’s because I like it, which makes me mad, or that I’m just mad at him for saying it.
I start searching through all his drawers looking for something to pick the lock with. I come up empty. The only things he seems to have in here are clothes, a few handguns, and his laptop. I’m oddly happy that all I find in his night stand is a handgun and not a half empty box of condoms. In fact, I don’t find any at all. Either he was telling the truth about not bringing women here, or he just doesn’t use protection.
Pushing my jealous thoughts aside, I go back to the task at hand. Opening the top drawer on his desk, I do a fist pump when I find a stack of paper tacked together with a paper clip. I straighten the clip out, go to the lock, and start picking. This is one useful skill my brother taught me.
It takes me a few tries but the lock finally turns. I open the door and see a small pregnant blonde women standing in the adjacent doorway, the same one I’d seen her poke her head out of last night. I freeze, not sure what to do.
“You’re not going to make a run for it, are you?” she asks as she rubs her baby belly.
“No?” It comes out more like a question, but I honestly don’t plan on running.
She eyes me. “I can’t go chasing you. I could hurt myself, and that would upset my husband.”
“Which one do you belong to?” I don’t know why I ask. Like it matters which one. The wrath of any of them wouldn’t be good.
“The handsome one.” She says it all dreamily, as if I’ll know which one is the handsome one. They’re all nice on the freaking eyes except for—
“You know. The one who grunts a lot and can’t be missed,” she finishes, as if reading my mind. Then it clicks together. I’d heard them talking in the hallway last night. Her husband is Savage. Definitely the last person’s wrath I’d want to suffer.
She’s so freaking tiny. I can’t even picture the two of them together, but it’s clear he put a baby inside her.
“I just wanted to check on Casper,” I tell her, hoping she’ll let me be on my way.
“I heard you shot her! Man, I bet she was mad.” She half smiles like it’s funny.
“Ah, yeah. I didn’t mean to. I…“ I stumble over my words, unsure what to make of this whole backwards conversation. “Do you know where I can find her?”
“Probably in her room. Chained to her bed with Vincent’s face between her legs if the moaning I’ve been hearing for the last hour is any indication.” She points to a door down the hallway.
“She really shouldn’t be doing that.”
The blonde starts giggling. “Nothing in this whole world can keep Vincent off Casper. He’d burn this place to the ground if someone tried.”
I just give a wan smile. How else am I supposed to respond to that? Men around here are clearly obsessed with their women. It’s oddly sweet and not something I would have expected from a motorcycle club, but a lot of what I’ve been seeing since I got here hasn’t exactly been expected.
“If you see her or this Vincent guy come up for air, will you let her know I’d like to check on her? Make sure no infection is setting in or anything,” I ask as I start to make my way down the hallway before the little blonde tells me to get back into my room.
“Yeah.” Just as I’m about to pass her, she reaches out and grabs my arm. “He’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you. They’re all bark and no bite when it comes to the women they care about.”
I just nod. Maybe she’s forgotten I’m being held hostage. I haven’t been hurt, but still.
“Vincent works for the FBI. Don’t go trying to escape. He’ll make sure no one believes a word that comes out of your mouth if you try to run to the police,” she says, dropping her hand from around my arm.
“Dirty cop.” I throw back at her, not liking her threat. I get it, but I still don’t like it.
“Vincent would do anything for Casper, and Casper loves this club. That means protecting it. If you call taking care of something you love ‘dirty’ then I guess we all are.” With that, she turns and shuts the door, leaving me alone in the hallway.