Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
She cocked her head again. “Funny. That’s almost verbatim what Mama said. Do you know she refused to tell me where you lived? But lucky for me, the Devil Wreckers’ new SGT at Arms was more than happy to show me.”
Mike turned and stared at Snake until he got back in his Jeep and drove away. There were no cops called or insurance information requested because the bastard knew better.
“Mama also said that her boys were happy and I should go on about my business.” She mocked Mama’s Southern accent as she closed the tight gap between them. Mike sucked in a sharp breath at how close her lips were to his. She always was gutsy as fuck—it was why he’d been enamored with her all those years ago. “I just wanted to see for myself. You’re looking really—”
“My son is fine. You’re gonna have to take my word for it. Now, leave,” Mike ordered, unsure how long his patience would last.
“Now, hold on one minute,” Wall Street butted in. “Ivy has turned her life around. And she wants to right some of the wrongs she’s—”
“Ivy, you were bold enough to come here because you know I’d never put my hands on a woman… not even one as vile as you.” Mike pointed at Mr. St. James the Fourth. “But there’s nothing stopping me from whipping his ass for every piece of shit you say out of your mouth that I don’t like.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Ivy’s husband held his hands out in front of him, his head swinging between Mike and Manny. “There’s no need for threats of violence.”
“Oh, there’s definitely a need,” Mike snarled. “And after I knock your ass out, don’t fight that bright light you see. Go towards it.”
Ivy rolled her eyes as if she was annoyed. “Rye, just wait in the car. I’ll handle this.”
“Mr. Mike. Um, Big Mike… can I call you that?” Riley asked.
“No,” he and Manny said in synch.
The husband’s Adam’s apple gave a noticeable dip before he cleared his throat and tried again. “Mike. Ivy is a good woman. She’s changed… a lot.”
Mike gave Ivy the most disgusted look he could muster. “Well, I broke her, Rye. Anybody can ride her ass now.”
“Riley.” Ivy’s voice was strained like the fucked-up part of her wasn’t rehabilitated in the least. All of her junk was still right there, concealed under the layers of her designer clothes. Camouflaged but there. “I said wait in the car, please.”
He did what she asked, and Mike turned to look at Manny in disbelief. Both of them had confused but repulsed expressions on their faces.
“Did he… he really left his wife out here and went and hid in the car?” Manny asked.
“Does he think that door and a single pane of glass will stop me?” Mike couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped as he glared at Ivy’s pinched features. “I see you finally found yourself a rich chump to do whatever you say. All money and no balls.”
“Just the way I like ’em,” she answered with a shrug.
“How the hell did you manage that?”
Ivy curved her lips into a nasty leer as she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “A few rounds of vaginal rejuvenation, some dominatrix role play in the bedroom, and voilà. It was rather simple.”
“So your trifling ass can get vaginal rejuvenation, but it’s illegal for me to roll back the odometer on my truck. What the fuck?” Mike scoffed. “Something’s wrong with this goddamn country.”
“Gosh, you’re such an asshole, Michael.”
“Said the dick.”
Ivy glared him down in the way she used to do when he was younger, but she had no clue who she was standing off with now.
“I’m going to say this one last time,” Mike hissed. “Leave.”
“Not until I see Bishop… with my own eyes.”
“Here, I got a picture.” Mike pulled out his cell phone.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Well, it’s all you’re gonna get,” Mike countered.
They were in a standoff, and though he knew how insistent Ivy could be when she wanted something, he was sure he was going to win this fight. That deserter was never laying eyes on his son—she didn’t deserve to even meet him. And Mike would’ve made sure of it, but of course his son, Edison, Wood, and Trent had to pull up at that exact moment.
Mike could feel a throbbing start behind his right eye when Bishop got out of the passenger seat of Edison’s Impala, holding a casserole dish in both hands. “Dad, Eddie made your favorite.”
“Mike, you want the drinks on the deck, yeah?” Wood called out as he and Trent lugged a huge cooler toward the entrance to the backyard, not bothering to wait on Mike to answer.
Apparently, none of them could sense the tense feud between Mike and the random woman he was standing too close to because Bishop gave Rayne a fist bump on his way past before he went through the front door. Edison waved to Mike, then let the screen slam shut after them.