Snitches Get Stitches Read online Lani Lynn Vale (Bear Bottom Guardians MC #8)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Bear Bottom Guardians MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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I’d also be in the middle of a storm, thirty feet up in the air, trying in vain to fix a power line that might or might not restore electricity for fifteen thousand people.

Monster walked in at my side, and I smiled at the front desk receptionist, collected my name badge, and nodded at the doctor that asked me to continue to visit Theo.

He nodded back and I sidestepped the grouchy nurse that had asked me to leave a half hour early yesterday.

I was pretty bitter over that thirty minutes.

I wasn’t sure why, nor was I sure that I should care, but I did. I cared quite a bit, and I was pissed at her that she caused me to miss thirty minutes with a woman that I couldn’t get off my mind.

I found Theo in her usual spot, out by the gardens, this time on the ground with her back to the bench.

She was sitting on a folded-up blanket, her feet tucked into her body with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was staring at the sky with a look of rapt awe on her face.

When I arrived at her side, she looked over at Monster and me and smiled.

Her hand went out to Monster, and he took the invitation for what it was and laid at her side, flopping his chin down on her bare feet.

It was cold out today, and she was in sweatpants and a t-shirt. I assumed her knees were up to her chest and she was hugging herself because it was cold.

Instead of asking her why she was sitting on the ground, I sat down on the bench behind her and said, “If you sat on this padded bench and then wrapped that blanket you’re sitting on around you, you wouldn’t be cold.”

“True,” she agreed. “But that bench is super uncomfortable, and it’s wet.”

I felt the wetness from the wet fabric seeping into my pants, and I cursed.

“You could’ve told me before I sat down,” I accused, joining her on the ground.

“I could’ve,” she agreed. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your face as your butt got wet, and I only get so much enjoyment out of this place.”

I felt my belly clench at her teasing words for two reasons.

One, because she was beautiful when she smiled, and two because I hated that she was here.

I stretched out my legs and found myself saying something I hadn’t intended to say.

“I want to tell you a story about my friend,” I said softly. “Do you mind listening?”

I wasn’t sure what made me think that now was the best time to tell her why I was really there, but I didn’t want to leave tomorrow and not see her for a week without her knowing. I knew that she’d need to process everything, and to process it she’d have to have time to think. And me being in the middle of clean up from a wicked storm was a good opportunity to give her that time. I wouldn’t have any free time myself to think about leaving her here by herself, either. I was fairly sure that she was safe, despite her being in this place when I knew that she shouldn’t be.

“I saw you once before,” I whispered.

She turned her head so that she was staring me straight in the eyes.

“What?” Her breath started to come in soft pants.

I looked back up to the sky and began my story.

“Years ago, I met a man,” I said softly. “That man was an ex-football player, and had a son that became really, really sick.”

The woman beside me stiffened almost imperceptibly.

“For a year that boy lived next to me,” I continued.

I felt her head turn, and her eyes on my face.

“I saw a woman that was that little boy’s mom every day for a year after they moved next door to me. She was a mean, cunning, crazy, backstabbing woman that I didn’t like at all. The woman would go from cold and calculating to angry and venomous, all the way to a blank canvas in about two seconds flat. She was literally the worst kind of woman because you could never, ever predict her moods. But one thing she wasn’t, was nice. She wasn’t considerate. And she always fucked with Rome, the father of that sick little boy, as much as she could just because she enjoyed seeing him suffer.”

I didn’t look down at her despite wanting to.

“Then one day, during a random visit, that sick little boy’s mother turned into a sweet woman. For about eight hours. She was nice, kind, compassionate, and most importantly, she was accommodating. She had turned into a woman that I didn’t recognize,” I said. “And later that night, I saw that woman crying on her bed, seemingly broken.”


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