Ugly Beast Read online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
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“When we’re here, this is where we’ll be staying. A lot of boys stop by from other chapters and sleep wherever they crash. When they’re here, you stay in this room.”

He opened the door, and she saw it was a decent size, not like her old room. There was a large bed that dominated the room.

“We share a shower on this floor. Make sure to lock the door. We don’t have any fancy gold shit. It’s all standard stuff.”

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t the one in charge of decorating at home, but figured it was useless.

Putting her bag on the edge of the bed, she turned to look at him. He was rubbing the back of his head, looking a little out of it.

“I can handle this.”

“You sure? I want a beer, and I’ll bring you up some food when it arrives.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t okay. He brought her here, and now he was going to leave her.

“Good.” He left the room without another word, closing it behind him. She stared at the door, a little shocked.

He just left her.

Staring around the room, she went to the window that overlooked the back of the house.

It was such a large backyard, and she saw trees at the edge of the dirt path. She saw off to the left, there was a large shed with a single chain on the doors. It looked ready to fall down if someone gave it a single push.

She watched in amazement as one of the brothers she didn’t recognize pushed a woman up against the shed.

The woman wasn’t fighting. The man pawed at her body, and then he shoved her down in the dirt so she was on her knees.

Right there, in front of anyone to see, his dick was in her mouth.

“Men love to think we can swallow dick. It can be done, but you need to take time to learn.”

Stepping away from the window, she covered her face. This was not like anything back home. The most she had seen was torture and death. Men and women had died in front of her.

It was their life.

She stood at the base of the bed and opened up the bag. The few clothes she’d brought with her seemed to mock her. They were all outfits designed to cover up as much of her body as possible.

Zipping up the bag, she put it on the floor.

Spinning around the room, she saw he didn’t even own a television, nor were there any books.

She stepped up to his chest of drawers and stared at the photographs that were there. Not too many. Most of them were of his bike or club. Not enough to give her any insight into the club.

Once she had stared at all the things in his room that didn’t mean she snooped, she sat on the edge of the bed again.

Boredom flooded her.

She was used to being sent to her room. It was always random, but she had books to keep her company. This was boring.

Rubbing her hands together, she folded her legs, and then waited. There was no clock in the room, so she didn’t know what time it was or how long she’d been there.

Heavy music was playing downstairs. The house seemed to vibrate with it.

She started to pace the room, trying to calm herself, but that didn’t work. Sitting down on the floor, she folded her legs again, put her hands on her knees, and tried to meditate.

It was something she often did after she’d been at the mercy of her father. The bruises still hurt, but she was able to focus.

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

When that didn’t work, she grabbed his pillow from the bed and placed it on the floor, lying down to stare up at the ceiling.

Did he say she couldn’t leave his room?

Was she banished here until he remembered her?

She was starving.

She hadn’t had the time for breakfast before Chantel came in and ate it. While her sister threw accusations her way while eating, she’d gotten changed and packed.

Rubbing at her temples, she felt a little wave of sickness.

Would it be so bad to leave the sanctuary of the room? She sat up, picked up the pillow, brushed it off, and placed it back on the bed. She walked to the door, breathed in, and began to open the door, only to close it.

What was she doing? She had to wait.

She sat on the edge of the bed again. Tears filled her eyes at being left alone. Was this the kind of life she was going to have?

Just get up and go downstairs.

It can’t be that bad.

Other women are here.

Standing up, she squared her shoulders and waited. Opening the door, she waited to see if someone entered to yell at her. When no one did that, she peeked her head out, chancing a look down the long corridor. No one was around, and the noise was louder. Stepping out into the hallway, feeling so stupid for the way she was behaving, she shut the door. Her stomach chose that moment to make a noise.


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