Tracker (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #3) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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Tonight, her job consisted of going to work, monitoring the airwaves, and making sure the men didn’t catch anyone’s attention.

“Experience,” she said with a shrug.

“Nah,” Tracker whispered in her ear. “You’re just fucking badass. You can have my back any day of the week, Jo Jo.”

She smiled at him. Most women would prefer flowery words of love or compliments on their appearance, but she couldn’t imagine loving his praise more. In her book, his trust, respect, and ability to see her as an equal beat out syrupy poetry any day.

“What time does your shift start, Jo?” Jinx asked from behind the bar.

“Eleven. But I’ll head in early if the weather starts to get bad.”

It was Tracker’s turn for a worried frown.

Jo lifted a finger in front of his face. “Don’t say it. If you can be out in the storm, so can I.”

“Oooh.” Jinx laughed. “She told you, Tracker.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t gonna say a damn thing. I value my balls too much.”

He blew her an air kiss as everyone laughed. Jinx was especially loud. She loved how the big man was slowly warming up to her.

They ate dinner together at the clubhouse. Tracker stayed glued to her side as though he couldn’t bear to be more than an inch away from her, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it. Tensions were high with the combination of weather threats and the rest of the night’s planned activities, but everyone did their best to keep the conversation light.

As the hours passed, the wind whipped up until it was a constant howl. Palm trees weren’t bending in half yet, but it was coming. The rain started around eight. It didn’t begin gradually but came on as a fast and hard deluge.

Jo went to watch the storm as Tracker met with Curly to review the final details of their plan. He found her sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, watching the wind whip through the distant trees.

“You crazy?” he asked, chuckling as he joined her.

She grinned. “Probably. But the overhang is keeping me dry so far.”

Tracker dropped in the rocking chair next to hers. They’d drag them inside when they left to keep them from becoming deadly projectiles. “Well, if this is the crazy section, I guess I’m where I belong.” He linked their fingers.

They sat in silence, watching the storm increase in strength. It’d be a doozy when all was said and done. Hopefully, damage to the area would be minimal, but Jo had a feeling the town had some major clean-up in its future.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.”

“Sure as hell is.” His voice held a note of reverence that drew her attention. Instead of looking out across the farmland, his gaze was on her.

She rolled her eyes. “Cliché, Tracker? I thought you were better than that.”

He threw his head back and let out a loud bellow of laughter that got swallowed up by the wind. “Damn, I-I really fucking like you, Jo.”

For a second, her breath seized as she thought he’d been about to use a different four-letter ‘L’ word. Was she ready for that?

How the hell did someone figure out the answer to that question? She loved him. She knew that but admitting it out loud was a different story. It would put her in a vulnerable position she wasn’t prepared to experience, especially that night with so much at stake.

“You feeling good about tonight?” Tracker asked. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to respond to his quasi-declaration of feelings.

“Good?” She shook her head. “No. Ready for this shit to be over so we can breathe? Hell yes.”

He grunted. “Scale of one to ten, how stressed are you?”

“’Bout a six,” she said, and she meant it. Stressed, but the anxiety remained manageable for the moment. “You?”

“Same. Maybe five. Really looking forward to fucking up Lobo’s operation. It’s about time.”

“You’ll be careful?” She looked over again to find him staring at her.

“Of course.” He lifted their joined hands and pressed a warm kiss to her knuckles. “Got a lot going for me right now. And you follow your own advice, you hear me?”

Be careful.

“Will do.” Suddenly, the potential for disaster hit her like a sledgehammer. She had to say something. Maybe not profess her love, but before they parted ways in a few hours, she needed him to know how important he was. “Tracker…”

Her phone rang with the familiar chime of her partner.

“Crap,” she said as she pulled the offending device from the pocket of her hoodie. “How much you bet they want me to come in early.”

“Andrew?”

“Yeah. Sorry, let me see what it is. Hey, Andrew,” she said as she lifted the phone to her ear.”

“Jo? I can hardly hear you. You out in the fucking storm?”


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