Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
His parents were theoretically willing to help, but his dad was stuck in a wheelchair and his mom was legally blind. Thus the need for my relocation…
“Yeah, we ate some Cheerios and a candy bar,” Callie said proudly. “I cooked it in the microwave and it was soft and yummy. The twins want to go outside and play in the dirt. I told them Mommy wouldn’t like that.”
“You’re right—definitely stay inside,” I replied, thinking fast. “Turn on the TV, but keep it quiet so it doesn’t hurt Mommy’s head. I’ll get home as fast as I can. Until then, don’t bother Mommy unless it’s an emergency. You remember what an emergency is?”
“Yes,” she said gravely. “If there’s blood or someone can’t breathe or there’s a fire.”
“And do you open the door?”
“Only to a firefighter or the police. Not for Daddy, even if he’s being nice.”
My heart caught, because it wasn’t fair that a kid so young should have to deal with shit like this.
“All right, then,” I told her, forcing myself to take a deep breath. “You’re doing great. I’ll get home as fast as I can. You watch your sisters until then.”
“I’m a big girl. I can do it.”
I hung up the phone, running a hand through my hair, my own headache growing steadily worse. I felt like I should call someone, but who? The girls were safe and the last thing Hannah needed was an investigation from CPS. Given the whole single-mom thing—combined with the fact that she was an outsider and their dad was the local drug dealer—she didn’t look so good on paper. But she was a good mom. A really good mom.
Just get your ass back to the trailer and things will be fine.
But how was I going to do that?
“Everything all right?” the girl asked, looking concerned. She had big raccoon eyes from smears of makeup and was still wearing a teeny tank top with a push-up bra from the night before, but a sort of innate kindness still shined through.
“Not really,” I admitted. “I need to get back home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Violetta.”
“You shouldn’t leave without talking to Shade first,” the guy said, and his voice was firm. His hair was all flattened on one side where he’d passed out—probably on one of the couches lining the room—but despite the silly hair, I didn’t want to mess with him.
“He said he’d give me a ride—” I told him. Then someone started pounding on the main door, startling the hell out of me. Instantly three men I hadn’t noticed (had they been sleeping on the couches?) were on their feet, one of them looking through the peephole while another stood ready by the door.
“It’s that tool, Rebel,” one of them said, glancing toward me. “He’s your boyfriend, right?”
Damn, gossip spread fast in this place.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I said grimly. My fury from the night before came rushing back, mixing with my worry about the girls and the pain of my headache to create a roar in my ears. I couldn’t fix things for my sister. I had no clue how I was going to get home and I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around what’d happened, but one thing was very clear in my mind.
Rebel needed his ass kicked, and I was just the girl to do it.
Chapter Six
Shade
“Boss, we got a situation with your girl.”
I woke instantly, reaching for the gun I kept under the bed as I rolled to my feet. It was an old habit, one that’d scared the shit out of more than one woman, but it’d served me well during my years as a club enforcer.
Nowadays, I always traveled with security—one of the many “perks” of being national president. Got on my nerves in a big way. I also understood the reasoning behind it. Nothing throws a club into chaos like seeing their president gunned down, or worse, taken hostage. Not that the brothers would be stupid enough to give in to any demands if it happened, but they’d kill themselves trying to rescue me. Taking on the job meant losing some freedom, which sucked.
“What’s the problem?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea already. Mandy was gone, and seeing as she had no transportation, that meant she had to be wandering around the clubhouse. Nobody would give her a ride without my permission.
Fucking hell, but that bitch had me tied in knots.
Why I gave a shit about her I had no fuckin’ idea, but I knew one thing for sure—I wouldn’t be happy until I was balls deep in that sweet snatch of hers. Fuckin’ hated watching the eyes that followed her at the bar. Every man in the place wanted a piece of that. I hated them all, but I hated Rebel more than the rest combined because at the end of the day, he was the one hitting that.