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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Tracker lifted his needle from her skin. She spoke with passion and frustration in her cracking voice as though fighting tears.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Didn’t mean for that to turn to whiny. I came here to forget, not rehash it all.”

Oh, fuck no. This is exactly the kind of shit that made him violent with rage. “Don’t you dare apologize! If there were more cops like you, maybe the damn world wouldn’t seem so fucked up all the time.”

“More cops like me? Why? Because I did so much to help her?” She shook her head. “That’s a good joke.”

The story pinged familiar. “This wouldn’t happen to be Mike Starkey’s baby mamma, would it?”

Her eyes bugged. “You know him?”

“Not well.” Anger tore up his spine. “Done some ink on him, and he complained about his kid and nagging baby mama the whole time. He’s a piece of shit but a paying customer. However, had I known he was an abusive asshole, I’d have kicked him to the fucking curb.”

She laughed. “I’d have paid to see that.”

“Maybe someone needs to pay him a little visit.” Someone like him. Or better yet, Spec. The club’s enforcer would love to deliver a message about what happens to men who treat their kids like punching bags. “Unofficially.”

“I’d love that, but I can’t risk my job. I’m already on thin ice with my lieutenant. I’ll have to settle for fantasizing about beating the shit outta him until the judge gets his head out of his ass and gives the mom full custody.”

He stared right into her beautiful blue eyes. “You’re pretty damn amazing. You know that?”

Laughing a harsh bark, she shook her head. “No, Fin, I’m not. I’m the opposite of that. You know, today, I started to wonder if I made a huge mistake becoming a cop. It’s what I have wanted to be since I was a child. I come from a family of cops and today, I was tempted to throw it all away.”

He resumed working on her tattoo. The pain helped him when he was fucking stressed. Maybe it’d do the same for her. “Nothing wrong with questioning shit or deciding to change if you’re not happy.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not that simple.”

Part of him would kill to ask her to elaborate, but her issues didn’t matter. Shit going on in the department did.

“You know what’s the most annoying part?” She turned her head toward him but kept the rest of her body perfectly still as he worked.

“What’s that, babe?” Her fire reminded him of the way she was in bed—hot, passionate, hungry. Sitting on the stool was getting more uncomfortable by the second as his cock reacted to her as well.

“If this Michael guy was a member of the MC, we’d be having an entirely different conversation. The department would have thrown the book at him for every crime ever committed, from jaywalking to pissing in public, and they’d be hailing the mom as a hero for keeping her son away from dangerous bikers.”

Tracker grunted, but his insides tensed.

Keep talking.

“You know, yesterday I spent twenty minutes convincing Andrew not to make a surprise trip to the farm they use as their clubhouse. He literally wanted to fake a noise violation as an excuse to snoop around on the off chance he’d stumble on something illegal. It’s borderline harassment. Sometimes I worry someone I work with will cross the line into framing them for a crime they didn’t commit.”

He swallowed. Wouldn’t be the first time. “Do you really think that?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this so heavy. Forget I said anything, okay? I’m just blowing off steam.”

No, she wasn’t. He might not have known her for long, but he could tell Jo wasn’t the type to dramatize. He should push. Needed to push for his club. Telling Curly that Tracker’s fuck buddy had an inkling the police department might do some crooked shit where his club was concerned didn’t help anyone. He needed details. Specifics. All he had to do was say something like, “If it’s upsetting you, we shouldn’t forget it. Talk to me.” Or he could wait until the tat was finished, fuck her brainless, and ask again.

But what came out of his mouth was, “I’m sorry, but I still think you’re amazing. And I think you need to trust your gut. It served you well when you met me.”

That had her grinning. “It did, didn’t it?”

He smiled back. “Now, close those pretty eyes and think of how sexy you’re gonna look with my ink on your skin.”

She gasped as though the magnitude of his brand on her had just set in. Normally, he didn’t think in such caveman terms about laying ink on people, but he couldn’t move past the fact that his ink would be the only one on her skin.


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