Torrid (Judgement #2) Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Judgement Series by Abbi Glines
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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I had trusted Wallace with that information when I was seventeen. Wallace took his time winning my trust and easing me into a sexual relationship. He said the reason I didn’t reach an orgasm during sex was because of being raped.

I had believed him until I had sex with Liam. I’d lost count of my orgasms that night.

Shaking my head to clear it, I turned back to the screen. I had a job to do, and thinking about Liam wasn’t helping me any. That would just lead to me being sad and probably crying. I’d felt like doing that a lot lately. But I’d read on a prenatal website that it was to be expected.

15

Liam

Pulling a cigarette from my pocket, I stared down at it, then tossed it on the bar with a curse and reached for a bottle of Jack instead. Opening it and not bothering with a glass, I turned it up and took a long pull.

“Guess that one’s yours now,” Tex drawled.

I slammed the bottle down onto the counter and glared at the empty stage. I’d been so fucking sure. I had convinced myself that this would be fine. It was just a precaution.

FUCK!

I took another drink.

“What did I miss?” Tex asked, sounding concerned.

I couldn’t talk about this with him. Not yet. I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

The past two days had gone smoothly. Hell, this morning, I’d not even been annoyed when Liberty walked into my office. She had organized and updated so much shit in two days’ time that I felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders.

It had all been fine. Good even. Until five minutes ago, when I had gotten the call that the baby she was carrying was mine.

I’d pulled out, goddammit! Yeah, sure, I’d shot my load all over her ass immediately, but still, what were the fucking odds?! Did she not take birth control? She was thirty-one and had been living with a guy.

I took another drink, wishing something would make this go away. I couldn’t have a kid. I was a grandfather, for God’s sake. One day, Cree and Eli were gonna go to school with their aunt or uncle.

I winced, closing my eyes and sucking in air.

How did I tell this to Madeline? Sorry, honey, but I got a one-night stand pregnant.

This was a disaster.

Speaking of disaster, the woman having my kid was a disaster. She was too young and unfit to have a kid. She didn’t even own a car or have a home.

“All right, Prez. You’re worrying me,” Tex said, reminding me he was there.

“Everything okay in here?” Drifter asked as his heavy footsteps drew closer.

“I’m not sure. He’s drinking straight from the bottle and hasn’t said a word,” Tex told him.

They’d know eventually. Blaise would be expecting me to tell him today. Or for me to tell Madeline. He wasn’t going to keep it from her.

Lifting my gaze, I looked at Tex, then at Drifter. They were both watching me as if they didn’t know what to do with me. I took another drink.

“You trying to tie one on before ten in the morning?” Drifter asked. “That’s not like you. Something bad happened.”

I let out a hard, humorless laugh, then set the bottle down with a hard thud. “You could say that,” I agreed.

“Do we need to call in backup?” Tex asked as he studied me closely for some sign of why I was trying to get drunk before I even had breakfast.

I shook my head.

“Okay then, you’re gonna have to tell us something. You can get as shit-faced as you want, but we need to know what’s up,” Drifter urged me.

I took in a deep breath, then let it out. I didn’t even know what I was gonna do with her now. I hadn’t made plans. I’d stopped even thinking about it. The thought of this being the outcome had been nonexistent because I was sure it was the ex-boyfriend’s.

Selena had texted me last night, saying she had been given tickets to a concert this weekend. It was some new band that claimed to play country music. I’d suffered through several of their songs when she’d played them at her house. What they sang wasn’t country music. Not by a fucking long shot. I’d agreed to go even though I shouldn’t have.

“Liberty is pregnant,” I said, my voice sounding raspy. I took another drink before looking at them. “It’s mine.”

“Fuck,” Tex muttered.

Drifter ran a hand over his hair; his eyes had gone wide, but he didn’t say anything.

“I fucked her one night. Several times, but one night. That was it, so I didn’t think it was mine,” I ranted, then took another drink. It no longer burned, going down. “But the paternity test results came back, and it’s mine all right. She had said it was, and I thought, Hell, she fucked me hours after we met. She probably did that shit all the time. Guess she wasn’t lying about that.”


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