Repairing the Wreckage – Ruthless & Royal Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
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A huff of bitter laughter eases out of me. “I don’t know about that.”

“You were the most ‘professional’ fighter there.” Ella exchanges a glance with her husband.

“I tried,” I mumble, embarrassed. I don’t even know what they saw of my time there. Which carefully chosen snippets of all the weeks, days, and hours of my life were splashed on television for the whole world to see.

“He needs to rest now.” Juliet nods at Vapor. “Help him into bed.”

“He’s twice as big as when he left.” Vapor slaps Eraser’s shoulder. “Get up. This is a two-man assignment.”

“I’m not twice my size,” I protest. “And I can get myself off the couch by myself. Unless you’re gonna help me take a piss next?”

Juliet glances at Vapor. “You might want to make sure there’s no blood in his urine.”

Vapor opens his mouth—hopefully to protest—but I cut him off.

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “I’m fine. I got an appointment with a local doctor later in the week to test kidney function. It’s not like I haven’t been here before.”

“I haven’t seen you this fucked up since the nights we were fighting for our lives in the basement, brother,” Eraser says in a solemn tone rarely heard from him.

“Thanks.” I attempt a withering glare. “Why don’t you take your cheerful ass home and let me suffer in peace now.”

“I don’t think we should leave you alone,” Juliet protests. “What if you have a concussion?”

“I got checked out by the doc after the fight. Slept fine last night.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Thanks, though.”

She bites her lip and flicks her gaze to Vapor. “All right.” Obvious reluctance slows her words. “We’re stopping by tomorrow morning right after we drop Atlas off at school, though.”

“Okay,” I agree, not that she’s giving me a choice. My eyelids drop. “I’m beat.”

Eraser stands and nods at Vapor. “Let’s get him into the bedroom.”

“Are you planning to tuck me in like a toddler?” I grumble.

Eraser leans down, shoving his big, bushy bearded face in mine. “Yeah, little buddy. You wanna go potty first?”

Ella snickers. Juliet smacks Eraser’s arm with the back of her hand.

I slowly push myself to the edge of the couch. Fuck, that hurts. I shouldn’t have sat on my lumpy couch for so long. I might need them to carry me after all.

“Come on.” Vapor slips his hand under my arm.

“Uh, uh,” I warn. “My shoulder and wrist are fucked, too. Let me do it.”

After choking down several yelps of pain, I finally make it into my bedroom. Eraser and Vapor hover behind me like mother cats the whole way.

“I’m fine.” I use one arm to try and lift my T-shirt off and immediately get stuck.

“Jesus.” Vapor helps me ease out of the fabric and tosses it aside. “Eraser can do your pants.”

“I can get the pants.” God, I hate this. “But if you’d dig a pair of sweats out of the third drawer over there, that’d help.”

“Fucking hell, Griff.” Eraser stands in my doorway staring at my bruised torso. “You crack any ribs?”

I twist and stare at my right side. Deep purple bruising stains my skin from hip to armpit. “Felt like it. But they checked. No.”

After a lot of unmanly whimpers, I finally change and slide into bed. The mattress squeaks and dips. After sleeping on that fancy cloud bed for so long at the house, my own feels like laying on a mound of dirty laundry. But it’s home. Relief washes over me. I made it home.

First thing I’m doing with my winnings is buying a new bed.

The edge of my covers rustle. There’s a clink and rattle next to my head.

“I think he’s already asleep,” Juliet whispers.

“No,” I mumble.

“I left a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol on the nightstand.” Something warm and coco-nutty covers my face. Soft lips graze my forehead. “I’m glad you’re home,” Juliet whispers. “Rest up.”

If I could move my arms, I’d hug her. “Thank you.”

I’m vaguely aware of their low, concerned murmurs fading and my front door clicking closed.

Then I’m out.

Home sweet home.

Bright light punches me in the forehead.

I groan and try to throw my arm over my eyes, then moan at the pain in my shoulder.

“You alive?” Remy’s gruff voice forces my eyes open.

“Satan? That you?” I mumble. “Did I end up in hell?”

He rudely rips the covers off. Cold air races over my skin.

“Motherfucker,” he breathes out. “Are you okay?”

“I was.” I groan and sit up. Boulders of pain bounce around in my skull. “I was enjoying some healing, restorative sleep until I was rudely jarred awake.”

“Juliet was worried about you and texted me.” He backs up so I can stand. “Now I understand why.”

I grunt at him and shuffle into the bathroom, praying he won’t follow.

When I emerge, he’s on the other side of the door. “Did you want to hold my dick for me?” I ask. “‘Cause I’m not into that.”


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