Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
She was also pale, likely from the trauma and lack of sleep.
“Ah, yes. A… probate?”
“Prospect,” I corrected.
“Yeah, that’s the word,” she said. “How long have you been here?” she asked, looking at me.
“Couple years. More or less. Dunno really.”
“Were you a biker before this?” she asked.
“No.”
“If you want someone who will give you more than one-word answers, I’m standing right here, angel,” Sully invited.
“Shouldn’t you be doing chores around here?” I ground out. Brooks was always quick to toss prospects on the schedule, to make sure they knew what they were getting into, what was expected of them.
I swear I still had callouses from all the toilets, shower, kitchen grout, and bikes I’d scrubbed when I’d been a prospect.
“I am making breakfast,” he said, making me realize that he’d compiled more than enough ingredients to make food for everyone currently in the clubhouse for breakfast.
“Nave usually cooks.”
“Today, he gets a break. And I get to show this lovely lady here what real food tastes like.”
With that, he started piling two plates with eggs mixed with cheese and spinach.
The toaster popped, and he tossed bread on the plates as well.
“Here. Feed your girl,” Sully said, handing us plates.
I didn’t correct him.
And, oddly enough, neither did Sylvie.
We sat at the kitchen table, listening to Sully singing to himself as he cooked, eating in silence for a few moments.
“Thanks for letting me crash here,” she said, voice low.
“Don’t mention it. Hope Nitro didn’t kick you all night long.”
“He slept with his head on my shoulder,” she said, smiling a little. “He’s like a giant blanket.”
“That snores like a fucking woodchopper.”
“I sleep like the dead,” Sylvie said, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t even notice. It’s quieter here than I thought it would be.”
“Babe, we’re bikers. Most of us don’t get up before noon most days.”
At that, she waved at us.
“I’m usually not up this early,” I admitted. “Usually hit the gym around sunup then come back home and crash after.”
“And I can’t seem to shake military time,” Sully said as he plated more eggs onto a big pile.
“So what do you guys, you know, do all day?”
“His ass will be doing chores,” I said, pointing toward Sully with my thumb. “The rest of us will pick up random jobs. Guard shifts. Working at the shop.”
“Shop?”
“Repair shop. The club owns one. There’s other businesses too, if we want to have something to do. Then there’s our other work,” I said, letting it drop there.
She did too, just nodding, clearly aware of what we were known to do for a living, and realizing it wasn’t something she could really question us about.
“You planning on following up with that eye doctor?” I asked.
“I think I’ve had enough of doctors,” she said. “Who needs two good eyes anyway?”
“The swelling will go down in a few days,” I told her. “Then you’ll know if you have any issues with the eye.”
“How long until my ribs don’t feel like someone is beating me with a bat each time I try to take a breath?”
“Couple weeks,” Sully and I said practically in unison.
“Ugh. Great,” she grumbled, stabbing at some of the egg with a lot more force than necessary.
“It slowly gets better,” I assured her. “But you’ll have to take it easy for a couple months.”
“You’ve had bruised ribs?” she asked.
“Bruised, broken, yeah. A few times.”
“Is Nave up al—“ Brooks asked, smelling the food, as he walked into the kitchen. “Fuck,” he said as his gaze landed on Sylvie’s face.
“Brooks, Sylvie. Sylvie, Brooks,” I said, waving between them with my fork.
“Hey, honey,” Brooks said, surprising me with the pet name. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him use one before. Then again, I guess I’d only ever really seen him around women who weren’t beaten to fuck. “How you feeling?”
“Like I got my ass handed to me,” she admitted, nodding.
“Been there,” Brooks said, nodding. “Freezer is full of ice,” he told her as he took a plate from Sully. “And all the bathrooms should be stocked with first aid shit.”
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a small smile. “You guys get hurt a lot, huh?”
To that, Brooks’s smile was a little more like a smirk. “Usually only when there’s a pretty girl around,” he said before taking his plate out of the room.
“Are bikers always so… welcoming?” she asked, watching the doorway.
“No.”
I’d known a lot of fucking bikers in my day.
In my experience, the Navesink Bank crew was a breed all its own.
“Guess I lucked upon the right outlaw bikers, huh? Can I ask another favor?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you drive me back to my place?”
“You’re staying here.”
Damnit.
That came out too fast, almost desperate-sounding.
“I, ah, maybe for another night or two. Just until I can move without almost doubling over in pain,” she said.
She was staying longer than that.
Preferably until I found and culled the fuckhead who hurt her.