Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Cut and dry.
I’ll be back home in a matter of days.
My phone rings and it’s Sara. This is surprising as I’ve text her a couple times since I left with no response. I figured it was a bucket list thing. Fling with a biker, that was fun, but now I’m done.
She’s strong. She’s independent. I’m not needed in her life. Frankly, I don’t know how it would work out other than being a hookup here and there. I had hope for a hot second though. Then she didn’t reply, I considered it as not interested. Win some, lose some, I’m not the kind of man to beg for any attention.
Although, Stud and I agreed she didn’t call about her car like we expected either. He called me after he never heard from her and had her car over twenty-four hours. There is a laundry list of things that need to be repaired and replaced. I gave him the green light to get the shit fixed no matter the cost since he didn’t reach her. Whether this is to become something or not, she didn’t need to be driving that car on its last leg like that. Honey will fix it and I’ll get it back to her.
Right now, I’ll deal with my transport. If she doesn’t reach out to Honey or Stud about the car, I’ll get it fixed, drop it in her yard, and never look back.
Easy come, easy go.
That was my attitude until I looked down and her name popped up on the screen. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am not some lovesick teenager. I’m not desperate. Why do I give a fuck that she’s calling? I can’t answer any of the what’s or why’s, but I can say everything about this woman is different for me.
“Country Boy, speak,” I answer the call growing more curious by the second.
She takes a loud breath and blows it out. “Hey sugar,” her voice it brings my whole body to life, “not so sure how to tell you this,” she begins, and I cough getting choked by my first thought.
“Sweets, it’s been days, if you’re knocked up the kid ain’t mine.” I bark really surprised at her hesitation. Sure, am I jumping to conclusions? Probably, but why blow me off just to call and say this shit?
After our night together, she didn’t strike me as one to hold back about anything. Her voice is trepid unlike anything before. But who am I to judge or pick it apart? I barely know her. One could say I know her body more than her personality because it’s true.
There is a heavy sigh. “Well, sugar, that’s a bit presumptuous. You know what they say about assumptions. Maybe now isn’t the best time for you to make an ass out of you and me, okay.” She pauses for a split second. “While my behavior with you could lead you to think I’m some kind of way, I am indeed not typically one to ride off on a stranger’s motorcycle and then ride that same stranger later in the night. However, with all caution to the wind, I did. What I am trying to say… well, I’m not so sure what you’re into, but these kind gentlemen of the,” she pauses, and it sounds like she moves the phone, “who are you with again?” she asks someone. “Okay yeah, so sugar britches,” her twang is more drawn out than before, something is clearly wrong. Her breathing is heavy like she’s nervous or in pain maybe.
“Sweets, what is this? What the hell is going on?”
“These kind gentlemen of the DreamCatchers motorcycle club, they decided I needed a vacation apparently.”
Instantly my blood boils. They don’t get to touch her. The DreamCatchers have zero to do with Sara. My personal life isn’t anyone’s business, especially not a client. They don’t come near what is mine. This shit, the transport, this is business, getting to her, that’s personal. They crossed a line I will not forgive or forget.
“They want security for whatever you got going on,” there is a hitch to her voice like she’s fighting to maintain her normal chatter. “Sugar, this is a bit much for me.”
At her words, my heart stops. What the fuck have they done?
“Sara, where the fuck are you?”
She tries to get her breathing controlled. “Well, I only have so many paid days off at work. I don’t think these DreamCatcher people got that memo and seein’ as they aren’t exactly giving me the freedom to come and go, this is a problem. Your girl here I got bills, babe. I really like paying them. Okay, that’s a lie,” she rambles, and I hear a mumble chastise her for dragging out the conversation. There is a heavy sigh as if she’s composing herself. “Well, they said you better be on schedule or I’ll pay.” She laughs confidently like the woman at the coffee shop, “Sugar, I don’t think they realize, I have no money and I’m nothin’ more than a one-night stand to you. Like it was fun, don’t get me wrong, but we aren’t gonna be planning a wedding or anything.”