Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Tinker was dancing right up to the stage, eye-fucking the guitar player while her girls cheered her on. Christ. He had douche written all over him. She’d be lucky if he offered to bang her in his car, instead of just doing her against a wall out back.
Keep your head in the game.
Grabbing my beer, I chugged it down, then leaned over toward Marsh.
“You got any more work?” I asked. He stared at me, eyelid twitching, and I wondered what the hell was going on in that crazy head of his.
“Why?” he asked. “You made plenty of cash on that last run.”
Because I need to finish this fucking farce.
“Not enough,” I said shortly. “I’m getting to the point where I’m going to have to start taking jobs again. Whatever you decide is fine, but I’ve been spendin’ a lot of time with the club. Figured I’d talk to you before putting out any more feelers.”
He considered the question, then nodded slowly.
“I might have more work for you,” he said. “But that means taking things to the next level. You ever consider joinin’ a club?”
Why, yes. Yes, I have. Been a Reaper for eighteen years, thanks for asking.
“Not really,” I said. Talia leaned over and started sucking on my neck. Hard. Bitch wanted to mark her territory. I’d fucked up back there, talking to Tinker. But Jesus, she’d fallen right next to me. I couldn’t just let her get trampled, and once I had my hands on her it wasn’t like I was gonna let her go.
“Consider it,” he said bluntly. “We’re heading down to Ellensburg tomorrow. Big classic car show. You remember a guy named Hands? Disappeared right around the time you started comin’ around.”
“Huh,” I said, tugging at Talia’s hair. She felt like a leech attached to my neck.
“I got word from a friend—turns out Hands was an informant for the feds,” Marsh said, leaning in close.
“No shit?” I asked, wondering where he’d gotten the information. Hands had been an informant, all right. Now he was a dead informant. Not that I’d killed him personally. Nope, all I’d done was help my brother Painter kidnap him, beat the shit out of him for good measure and then hand him off to the Bellingham Reapers like the garbage he was. Wasn’t exactly sure what they’d done with him after that, but my best guess was they’d dumped the body offshore.
Fucking shame, all things considered. I’d had to spend three extra nights in that rat trap of a hotel because of him.
“Yeah,” he said. “And I got word that Hands is gonna be at the car show. You wanna be part of this club, now’s the time to show your loyalty. You helped us deal with this situation and I see lots of opportunity for you down the road. You with me?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Talia’s hand snaked down between us, cupping my cock through my fly. I pushed her off me, annoyed.
“What the fuck, Coop?” she asked. Marsh burst out laughing.
“Been too long since you had a real man, sis. You forget that not all of us sign over our balls at the door. Stop your bitchin’ and go grab us some more beers.”
She sneered at him, but she didn’t argue. I watched as she walked away, feeling almost sorry for her. Growing up with this jackass couldn’t have been easy.
“We’ll also be bringing some product down tomorrow,” Marsh said. “I’ve got some associates in the Tri-Cities. You met them before. They’ve got some other goods to swap with ours. We’ll pick them up, deal with Hands, and then enjoy the rest of the day. Some of those street rods aren’t half bad, even if they aren’t bikes. Always plenty of beer and bitches, too. You’ll like it.”
Tri-Cities. Interesting.
“These the guys in the fruit business?” I asked. Marsh’s eyes narrowed in sudden paranoia. God, I needed to be more careful. This man’s temper turned on a dime.
“Any particular reason you’re asking questions about my business? You workin’ for someone else, Coop? Hands was a fuckin’ traitor, and this time tomorrow he’ll be dead. I can do the same to you. Make you disappear off the face of the fuckin’ earth. Never forget that.”
Paranoid much?
“Just curious,” I replied mildly. “No big deal, boss.”
“Well, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he said, hand twitching nervously on the table. He really needed to stop using his own product. Fuckin’ death spiral. “Hey, that’s Tinker Garrett over there, isn’t it?”
I glanced toward the dance floor, pretending I hadn’t been watching her from the moment she’d come in. “Sure looks like her.”
“You hit that yet?”
Shooting a glance at him, I tried to decide if it was a trick question. “No, I like ’em younger.”
“Like my sister.”
“Like your sister,” I agreed, a bad feeling growing in my gut. Marsh’s hand jerked, and for an instant I wondered if he was going for a gun. Then he slammed his hand down on the table hard enough to slosh the drinks, laughter bursting out.