Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I glare at him instead. “Thanks for the concern, but there's nothing to worry about. I know what I'm doing.” I mean, I absolutely don't, but not in the way I think he means. “Now I've got things I need to—”
“I'm not sure that you do.” His voice darkens, going flat in a way that sends a chill down my spine.
“Excuse me?”
“I'm not sure you do know what you've gotten yourself into. Those guys are dangerous.”
“I know them. They'd never hurt me or Mia.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Nah, I’m sure you’re right. But guys like that? You can get hurt just being nearby. The Screaming Eagles act like they’re all high and mighty, but when the chips are down they’re no better than any of the other dangerous clubs. Did you hear about the other night?”
His patronizing tone has my hackles up. I know better than most what can happen when you get caught up in biker business, but at the same time… no, I haven’t heard anything. My gut tells me this guy is biased so I shouldn’t take what he says at face value, but if there’s rumors going around, maybe I should know about them? If nothing else, I could tell Havoc and the others what is being said. “No. What happened?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he says with a smug grin. “There's a bar, the Burnout, that I hang out at sometimes after work. Not a bad place normally, but some of the Outlaw Sons members like to hang out there. Ever heard of ‘em?”
“The name, I guess…”
“It’s a smaller club that keeps to themselves. They don’t make waves like the Screaming Eagles. Two nights ago, right out of the blue, a bunch of Eagles show up at the Burnout. They were just coming out as I got there, acting like they just won the fucking Superbowl and covered in blood stains. According to the bartender, they barged in, yelled something about messages for the club and then proceeded to beat the crap out of everyone in the damn bar. I helped clean up. One guy was down with a concussion and three others had to go to the ER. It's a wonder no one was killed, to be honest. I've never seen anything like it.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Disgusting. Anyway, I figured you should know, since I’m pretty sure at least one of the guys I saw leaving has been over here.”
“Are you sure?” I want to take back my question as soon as I say it, because I can see from Matt’s expression that he knows he hooked me, at least a little.
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Swear to God.”
“There had to be a reason though, right? Are the clubs fighting?”
He holds his hands wide and shrugs. “That's the million dollar question, isn't it? No one there had any idea. They just barged in, barked some threats, and then the fight was on. The Sons did their best to protect the women and any other innocents caught up in it, but anyone who didn’t get out fast—if you excuse my French—got the shit kicked out of them.” He pats the flat of his hand on the roof of my car for emphasis.
I’m sure there’s more to it than he’s telling, this guy who just happens to hate bikers but hangs out in a biker bar, but I doubt he’s making it all up. It would be too easy to verify, and maybe this is the reminder I need about why getting involved with bikers again is a bad idea. I thought I was too old to get caught again, but I forgot how addictive their attention is.
When you catch the eye of men like them, it’s like having the sun shine just on you. But when it goes away? You’re left with nothing but darkness.
Havoc, Phoenix and Sledge aren’t Dodger. I feel that in my core, but that doesn’t make them safe.
How did Phoenix end up in the ditch? Did Sledge really get hurt renovating?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I let myself get carried away because I liked him, damn it. Most bikers are casual about sex, so I wasn’t under the impression that it meant anything deep, but he’s my landlord, and Havoc’s friendship is too important to risk. I have Mia to think about now.
I should stop this before it goes anywhere I can’t back away from.
But I’m not giving this guy the satisfaction of thinking I’m falling for his kind hearted neighbor act. He’s obviously trying to scare away the competition, and I’m not a bone to fight over.
I look up at him. He's been waiting patiently, so maybe I’m being unfair because I don’t like what he had to say, but I want to smack that cocky smile off his face. I hope he wasn't expecting some kind of reward from this. “Thanks for letting me know. It’s definitely something to think about.”