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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Right. “Well, that will work, so get in there and get what we need.”

“Love you.” She started to make her way toward the house when Tracker grabbed her arm.

“Love you too.” One more kiss and he’d send her on her way.

Tracker got back in the SUV and watched out the window as she used the crutches to hop her way toward Andrew’s piece-of-shit cabin. With every step she took, he had to remind himself to keep his ass on the seat.

“Hey, brother, she’ll be okay,” Spec said, glancing over his shoulder. “She’s badass.”

“I know,” he answered without taking his gaze off her.

“Plus, any whiff of shit, and I’ll lay that fucker out. I promised you guys I’d let Jo try this her way. I didn’t promise how it would end.”

“Yeah, well, if it comes down to it, he’s mine,” Tracker said while still watching his woman.

“Fair enough.”

She’d slowed somewhat. Using crutches was an ass-pain on a good day, but with stitches in her side, it sucked even worse for Jo.

God, he hated this shit.

“All right, she’s knocking,” Spec said as though they couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

“And he’s answering,” Jinx added.

Tracker rolled his eyes.

His heart hammered as he watched Andrew scan the street. They each held their breath, frozen behind the tinted windows of Spec’s truck down the street from Andrew’s house.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Andrew asked, not concealing his shock. His voice came through Spec’s phone loud and clear.

Jo shifted on her crutches. “You were right.”

“What?”

“You were right,” she said again. “I made a huge mistake being with Tracker. Please let me in. I need to tell you some things about the MC.” She injected just enough desperation in her voice to sound believable without being over the top. He imagined her staring up at her soon-to-be former partner with big, sad, doe eyes.

Tracker had been wrong.

She was a damn fine liar.

Andrew would eat this shit up.

The cop took one last glance up and down the street before moving out of Jo’s way.

“Get in.”

“Showtime,” Jinx said. “Say goodbye to life as you know it, asshole.” He rubbed his hands together and cackled.

If only Tracker could be so confident. He trusted Jo one hundred percent, but a lead brick sat in the pit of his stomach, warning that they shouldn’t celebrate too early.

“THANK YOU, ANDREW.”

Jo hopped over the threshold into a cabin that made rustic look luxurious. It was dark as night save for two oil lamps sitting side by side on a folding table. He hadn’t bothered to remove the wooden planks from the windows, though they might not have been from the hurricane, but because he’d yet to purchase window glass. Aside from a camping chair and the folding table, the only other ‘furniture’ was a bookcase made of stacked milk crates. A set of broken-down stairs led to a second level and a dark hallway led to what she assumed would be a kitchen area.

“So what’s this about, Jo?” Andrew asked. His appearance had deteriorated since she’d last seen him. His hair hadn’t seen a brush in days, and his face had a sunken pallor that indicated he wasn’t sleeping or eating properly.

What was going on with him? He’d always been a pompous know-it-all but never displayed any obvious clues that he struggled with his mental health. Is that what had happened with him? Was he suffering from a mental health crisis, or was it something more sinister? Perhaps this was just him, and he’d hidden his true nature from her until her relationship with Tracker set him off.

“Uh…” Pretending to be uncomfortable was the easiest thing she’d ever done because she wasn’t pretending for a second. She’d rather be anywhere else in the world than in Andrew’s cabin, but this was necessary to protect herself and the MC. “Okay, look… I know things are really fucked up between us right now, but I didn’t know who else to go to with this. I know how you feel about the MC and knew you’d help me.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, pointing toward her leg.

No, I’m not fucking okay. I’m broken and hurting. About an eight out of ten on that scale the nurses asked her about every five seconds. “I’m doing good.

He nodded. “So what happened?”

“Well…” She cleared her throat and sent an apology through the universe to Tracker for the whopper of a lie about to fall from her lips. “They dropped me. The Handlers, well, Tracker, I mean. I’m hurt, so I can’t… you know, do certain things right now, so he has no more use for me.” Just thinking about it made her stomach sour.

Andrew grunted. “Asshole.”

“I know.” She cast her eyes downward and hitched her breath as though nearing tears.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s all right. This is what they do. They prey on good people. All of them. There isn’t a single man in that group with any redeeming qualities. Be happy you figured it out now instead of getting all the way sucked in like Brooke or Olivia.” He shook his head. “Those poor women are fucked. How long do you think it’ll be before we find them face down in the river ‘eaten’ by alligators?” he asked, crooking his fingers for air quotes.


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