Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Get the fuck away from me,” Brooke said with force.
Olivia swallowed and straightened her spine. Is this what happened to people who hung around motorcycle clubs? Though the instinct to run had her leg muscles twitching, she’d never abandon Brooke. Plus, she could strut with the best of them in her heeled sandals, but a sprint was a different story. With as inconspicuous movements as she could muster, she slid her hand into her purse for her phone. Too bad she didn’t have Curly’s number. Or anyone’s. Hell, she’d call Scott at this point.
The bench creaked as another man joined, this time sitting next to her. Immediately, the scent of deli meat and weed assaulted her nose, causing her to pull away reflexively. He draped an arm across her shoulders, keeping her close.
“Damn, Brooke, you got yourself a fancy friend here.” He stuck his nose in her hair. “Smells fancy too.”
Her stomach roiled. “Excuse me!” Olivia jerked her head. “That’s disgusting.” Who the hell did this neanderthal think he was?
He laughed hard, making his round face jiggle. He had a good fifty pounds on his friend. Most of it seemed to have landed in his gut which tested the strength of his T-shirt’s fibers and parted his vest. His stomach molded to Olivia’s side, soft and slightly damp.
“Could you back up?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t make a habit of getting close to men who can’t be bothered to bathe or brush their teeth.”
“Seriously,” Brooke said with much less superiority and far more annoyance in her tone. “Back. The. Fuck. Up.”
The man next to Brooke laughed. “You hear that, Dante? The fancy bitch thinks you smell like pig shit.”
“Fuck you, Rag.”
Rag? What kind of a name was Rag?
“How’s Curly?” Rag asked Brooke as he brushed her hair behind her ear.
“Don’t,” she barked, lifting a hand to swat him.
He caught her wrist and must have been holding it too tight because Brooke flinched and shifted beside her.
“Nuh-uh,” he said with a smirk. “Answer the question.”
“Curly’s fine,” she said through clenched teeth.
“He’s on his way here,” Olivia rushed to add.
He wasn’t, but if it’d get these creepers to leave, she’d tell them an alligator was about to crawl out of her ass. They couldn’t be in any real danger, could they? It was broad daylight! All she had to do was scream, and someone would come running, right?
“And who are you, fancy bitch?” Rag asked, looking her up and down like she was for sale.
“None of your fucking business,” she snapped. Whoops, there went her snooty but calm façade.
Brooke shot her a wide-eyed look as Rag laughed. When he finished finding her funny, he nodded at Dante, who grabbed her by the throat.
She made a choking sound as her air supply disappeared. Oh shit. She hadn’t thought they’d do anything. She’d been dead wrong. Flashes of the helpless woman struggling in vain against Lance flashed through her mind. Would she suffer the same fate? Be violated by a man she couldn’t fight off.
If only she could scream.
What the hell? Did no one notice what was happening to them, or were people so apathetic they’d had no plans to help?
“Hey!” Brooke reached for Dante’s arm, but Rag tsked. “Don’t fucking do it. Let’s try this again, fancy bitch,” Rag said as her eyes began to water. “What’s your name?”
“Olivia,” she rasped around the hand squeezing the air out of her throat. Her vision fuzzed, making it seem as though the pond had a wavy current.
“See how easy that was?”
The hand around her throat disappeared, and she sucked in gulps of air as she scooted as close to Brooke and as far away from Dante as she could get. “I’m Scott’s gir—”
“She’s Spec’s ol’ lady,” Brooke rushed to say, shooting her a warning glare.
Right. He was Spec to the club. “Y-yes,” she managed, throat aching. They’d never believe her if she called him Scott. And she’d already forgotten about the ol’ man, ol’ lady thing.
Rag and Dante exchanged a look she couldn’t decipher, but they weren’t nearly as cocky as they’d been seconds before.
“Damn.” Dante chuckled next to her ear. “You must be some crazy pussy to shack up with that deranged motherfucker.” He moved his hands to his crotch, groping as though they weren’t out in public for all the world to see.
Olivia’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.
“How ‘bout you drop down on those knees and give me a little bit of what Spec likes.”
Her mouth dropped open as panic surged through her veins.
“That’s a good start,” he said with a wink.
“You’re disgusting,” she said as she tried to shove him away. The damn man didn’t budge. The fear she’d been feeling transformed into full-on disgust and outrage. “Sco… uh, Spec is going to be here any second, and he’ll flip his shit if he sees you touching me.” In reality, he’d probably shake the guy’s hand and wish him well, thrilled she was someone else’s problem.