Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
When I get to her place, I send a text right as I see Vincent exit the apartment upstairs, and I know what’s coming. He walks down, straight to my ride, and I roll down the window.
“You got her?” is all he says. A deadly quiet behind the words. It’s how Vincent always is, even when he’s with Cas. He just kind of stands back and watches until he thinks he might need to step in.
I think everyone else thought he might have a problem with his little sister joining the Ghost Riders, but I knew he wouldn’t, even if I wished he had. Fuck, he was with Cas, and she was a member, and he was so fucking proud of her. He wanted everyone to know she belonged to him. That he was the lucky SOB that landed her ass, and I couldn't be happier for Cas because I’d never seen her like she is with him. They worked. And I couldn’t see a man who loved Cas like that and knew what she did and stood by her not do the same for another woman he loved. It was just who he was, and I knew he’d have his sister’s back on whatever road she wanted to go down.
“I got her.” I nod, and an understanding passes between us. I take care of her, or I pay the consequences. He might be willing to let her walk this road, but if she gets hurt on our watch, who knows what hell he’ll make rain down on us. This isn’t an old man telling a club member what to do. This is a brother looking out for his family. And I respect the hell out of Vincent for that.
He walks away without saying anything else. What else is there to say? He said what he had to say and that was that. No sugar-coating it or making threats. He didn’t need to.
After a few moments, I see Violet exit her apartment with a bag over her shoulder. She comes to stand right where Vincent was. She looks as fucking beautiful as she did when she stepped over my ass after nailing me in the dick. All that hair and legs. Both seem to go on forever.
“We can take mine,” she says, looking at her truck.
“I’ve got the camping gear,” I counter. I want to drive. I need some kind of fucking control here because she isn't going to give me any.
“I’ve got the guns,” she fires right back at me, not budging.
“I like to drive.”
“I like to drive, too.”
I let out a frustrated breath. I don’t know why I feel both annoyed and turned on. I would’ve thought that blow to my cock would have knocked some sense into him, but he clearly doesn't care. “Look, you need to read me all the information Pres gave you in the office and tell me where the fuck we are going and what the fuck we are doing. Can you do that while driving?”
“Yes,” she snaps without even a second of hesitation. She’s showing me that she will fight me on everything. That really isn't going to work if we are going to be a team in this. I need her to listen. She needs to understand that when it comes to some things, she just can’t win, and this is one of them. When it comes to this, I’m in charge. Not that I wouldn’t ask her opinion on some things or listen to what she has to say, but when I give an order, it sticks.
I wait, letting her know I’m not fucking around with this, and finally she rolls her big blue eyes and opens the door to the back seat of my SUV. She tosses in her bag and then grabs her guns out of her truck. I get out and help her load up, making quick work of what she wants to bring. Then she hops into the passenger seat and slams the door in my face. For a second I stand there, wondering what the fuck I was planning on doing. Was I trying to open the door for her?
I just shake my head and walk around to the driver’s side and get in.
“Head west and hop on the 70. We’re going to Colorado,” she says as she opens the file and starts flipping through the pages.
“Hope you packed a coat,” I say, looking over at her. She’s wearing a thin tank top and tight jeans with combat boots. She looks sexy as fuck, and I can’t stop picturing her nipples getting hard in the cold air. “Never mind. Hope you didn’t,” I tease, shooting a smile that seems to do nothing for her.
She sighs, clearly annoyed, and reads the intel from Lucias.
Our club has been having a turf war with the Five Aces for a while now. Their club is in business with some arms dealers, and we’ve been lucky to stay out of it and keep them out of our area. But the president of the Five Aces is pushing back, and it’s time we take matters into our own hands. They haven’t just stolen from us, they’ve planted evidence that’s had the cops crawling up our asses for shit we didn't even do, and they’ve done it just to try to make a point. But we’re about to make a bigger point right back. We’re lucky we aren't the only club that’s been having problems with them. The Hard Mixers, a sister club, is gunning for them too.