Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Dempsey walks over to the rocky ledge and sits down. He pats the ground beside him. “Come sit. You’re wound up really fucking tight, babe.”
I relax and give him a clipped nod before joining him. Once I’m settled, he wraps an arm around me, tugging me to his side.
“That’s better.”
I smile. “Much.”
We sit for a while, neither of us speaking. There’s an easiness about being with Dempsey that I’ve really come to love. He’s right. I’m wound up a lot of the time, but he unwinds me. I relax and can just be myself around him.
“Does your mom hate me?” I ask, cringing at how everything went down between Dempsey and his family this evening. “Is she going to kill me?”
“Nah,” he says with a chuckle. “She’s pissed at me and thinks I’m out here wrecking lives for fun, but she’ll get over it.”
“You seem so sure.”
“We’re Parks. Despite all the bullshit we’ve gone through, our family always sticks together and prevails. Deep down, I know this. They do too. Doesn’t mean we don’t blow up on each other from time to time.”
I’m not a Park, though.
It would be easy for Jamie to write me out of her life for good.
The thought of never speaking to her again is an ache deep in my soul. But the alternative? Not speaking to Dempsey is worse. That feels like a blade tearing through my heart, a visceral pain I don’t care to experience.
Maybe one day she’ll forgive me for getting involved with her son.
At least, I hope so.
We stay on our perch, watching the people down below go in and out of the house, gather by the fire for a while, and the occasional person on a bike showing up or leaving. Not much to go on other than to observe that this is definitely their home base.
Where are you, Trevor?
Are you mixed up with these losers?
We stay for hours, watching and quietly chatting about both serious things and silly things. He was joking, but it really does feel like a date. A bike ride with my man and then spending time with him someplace with a great view while having engaging conversations.
All the other men I’ve dated until now fall so completely flat in comparison to Dempsey. He’s life and color and fun—something I was clearly missing desperately until he came along.
“Come on,” he murmurs, squeezing my thigh. “It’s late and you have work tomorrow. We can do this again another day.”
I know he’s right, but it doesn’t help squash the guilt at not having found Trevor. He’s out there, traumatized by Lenny’s death and doing drugs. If only I could just find him, tear him away from the bad people he’s found himself with, and help my nephew get back to the sweet boy he once was.
Tomorrow.
There’s always tomorrow.
Dempsey holds true to his word. When we got back home, we fell into bed naked, but he didn’t push for more sex. He simply held me to his strong, solid body and stroked my hair. I keep waking up, despite being so comfortable, wondering if maybe just maybe my body could handle another round.
His soft, measured breaths tell me he’s asleep, which is the only reason I’m keeping my hands to myself. I’d love to wake him up with my hand around his cock, but sleep really does need to take precedence if I have any hope of functioning at work in the morning.
I’m just drifting off when I hear the sound of motorcycles in the distance. It gets louder, signaling the approach of several on my road.
It’s them.
It’s the Park Mountain Shadows MC.
They knew we were lurking and have come to pay us a visit.
I shake Dempsey awake and then slide out of bed to find clothes. We hear shouts outside, though I can’t make out what they’re saying. I throw on clothes as fast as I can before grabbing my shotgun from my closet safe since my Glock is still in evidence.
“Stay back. Let me handle them,” I tell Dempsey over my shoulder as I creep out the bedroom door.
“Fuck that,” Dempsey growls. “You’re not going out there alone.”
I stop to glower at him but the deafening sound of an explosion cuts me short. The entire house rumbles as glass shatters somewhere near the front of the house. Dempsey hooks an arm around my middle, dragging me back into the bedroom.
What just happened?
We then hear the squeals of tires and then the motorcycles leaving. As soon as it feels safe, we both run to the front door. I open it, shotgun drawn, and survey the scene before me. The bike Dempsey had been driving is on fire and in pieces. That explains the explosion.
“Was this retaliation for me winning that bike?” Dempsey asks, voice shaky with anger.
“That or they saw us tonight.” I scrub my hand over my face. “Crap. I have to call this in.”