Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater Read Online T.M. Frazier (King #5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: King Series by T.M. Frazier
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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“When will you be back?” Bear asked.

“A few weeks or so. Not too long,” Grace answered, with a little too much enthusiasm. Bear and I exchanged a knowing glance above Grace’s head. She was heading out of town to some facility she’d talked up to sound like a resort and spa for a few weeks, but Bear and I had our suspicions so we’d called the place after she’d first spoke about it and sure enough, it was a medical treatment facility for patients with advanced stages of cancer. Grace rarely said the C word when we were around and vowed that she was going to live forever.

“You need a ride up there?” I asked.

Grace waved us off. “Boys, stop worrying about me. They are sending transportation for me in the morning. Now go! Go! I’ll see you two in a few weeks.”

I was the kind of man who packed a gun at all times, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to try and argue with Grace when she had her mind set on something, and if she said she was going to live forever then it was best to believe her and leave it at that.

Bear rounded the table and said his good-bye’s, and I followed him through the yard around the side of the house. “You still got the number of that place?”

“Yeah, I called to make sure she’s got a private room,” I said.

“Good, one of the brothers has a stepsister who works there. She’s going to keep an eye on her,” Bear said.

There wasn’t much Bear and I agreed on, but taking care of Grace, even if it was behind her back, was one of those rare things that didn’t require an argument or a flip of a middle finger.

“Drop me at the club,” Bear said. “I don’t get my bike back from Dunn’s until the morning, right before we ride out.”

I nodded. While Grace was gone Bear was going to be out on a ride with the Bastards, something about something and them going somewhere. I didn’t really know the details because I really never listened to what he said, and right then there was something still nagging me about our earlier conversation. “I mean, you really wouldn’t get gay-married with me to help King’s kid? That’s kind of bullshit.” I knew it was odd to be offended because my very heterosexual friend wouldn’t marry his other very heterosexual friend in a gay-wedding to save the kid of their other very heterosexual friend, but there wasn’t a fucking thing I wouldn’t do to make shit right again. It wasn’t the fucking marriage part, it was the thought that Bear might not be in this as much as I was that was making me all twitchy.

Some fucking people.

With one hand on the front gate of the fence lining Grace’s yard, Bear stopped and turned around. “The truth? Ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do to get King’s kid back for him. And stop being such a dick, Preppy, because you fucking know that. Believe it or not, this shit isn’t all about you.”

I felt better knowing we were on the same page. “That might be true, but what’s also true is that all this sucks major fucking asshole.”

“That it does, my friend,” Bear agreed, pushing open the gate.

“Hey Bear, you want to know what they call gay marriage in states where it’s legal?” I asked as we reached the car.

“No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway,” he said with a laugh, struggling to maintain his semi-permanent state of looking annoyed.

“Marriage, you fucking idiot,” I said, flicking him on the back of his head as I jogged over to my car. He shot me a tattooed middle finger.

* * *

“I came in like a wrecking baaaallll.” I belted out the open window at a bunch of teenagers walking across the causeway. The group of mostly girls scrunched up their noses in confusion as if they’d never been the victims of a drive-by-singing before.

“Fucking teenagers,” I muttered, propping my elbow up on the door and waving my hand through the wind to the beat of the music, continuing my radio duet at a volume not fully appreciated by most, and especially not appreciated by the party-pooper next to me who had a pained look on his face as if my singing was causing his dick to tie itself in a knot.

“We’re all feeling shitty about King and Max, Bear, but do you have to look so constipated?” I asked, punching him in the shoulder.

Bear was silent for a moment. He blew out a breath and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not just King. It’s my old man too. He’s been all over me lately, even more than usual.” I parked outside of the gate. Bear looked up to the darkened clubhouse, staring at it like he could see something more than windows and walls.


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