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)
I knew I probably should have objected.
Insisted I was fine, that I could handle my own mess, that I had spent my entire life taking care of myself.
But, right then, I just didn’t want to.
And if I had a big, strong, scary biker guy who wanted to do a little of the caretaking, why the hell shouldn’t I take him up on it?
Especially when I wasn’t fully capable of defending myself in any way. Not that I was all that physically capable even before this, as much as I hated to admit that.
Maybe, when all this was done, I should look into getting myself a gun. Just in case.
“Here,” Voss said after having disappeared for a moment. Tossing one of my smaller bags onto the sink counter, he said, “Fill this with your bathroom crap. Got the bigger bag on the bed.”
With that, he made his way back out.
Doing what? I had no idea. But something. Because I heard him puttering around in the living room area.
I had no idea how long my invitation was going to be to stay with the bikers. So I threw a little bit of everything in just in case.
Making my way to the bedroom, I went ahead and overpacked my suitcase as well.
“I dumped your milk and took your garbage out,” he told me as he came into my bedroom, brushing me out of the way, and closing up my suitcase for himself.
“Thanks.”
“Need anything else?”
“I think that’s everything. I need to turn off the lights on Irwin’s enclosure, though.”
I’d always been paranoid about the heat lamp. I had it on a timer, but an abundance of caution also meant that I had a fire alarm right by it and an extinguisher just a few feet away. I definitely wasn’t leaving it all on if I wasn’t going to be around for a few days and Irwin wasn’t around.
Just thinking that sent a pang through my chest, but I refused to cry again. At least in front of Voss.
“Anything else?” Voss asked, following me as I turned off the lights, then looked around.
“That’s it,” I said, confused why I didn’t feel sadder about leaving everything else behind.
I guess when you had some crazy person stealing your shit and likely beating you up and possibly watching you with cameras, yeah, it was easy to agree to leave it all behind for safer pastures.
“Ribs hurting?” he asked as I finally collapsed into the passenger seat, shifting to try to relieve the pressure.
“I feel like someone is continually beating me with a bat,” I admitted.
“Yeah. Some ice might help. And not running the fuck around and all that shit.”
Again, maybe someone else might have found his bluntness offensive, but I was oddly charmed by it.
“Oh, wait. Can we swing by my work?” I asked.
“You’re not going to work today.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “No. I want my purse out of my car.”
“It’s not there,” he said, making my stomach drop.
“What? My car isn’t there?”
“Yeah. I mean, no.”
“Which is it?”
“Your car isn’t at your work. Because I had it towed to the shop that the club runs.”
“You… what?” I asked.
“Had it towed. To get it fixed. That old man mentioned that it breaks down a lot.”
“Marshall. And yeah, it does. But…”
“Don’t bother,” he cut me off.
“Don’t bother what?”
“Objecting,” he said. “It’s already done. And your purse had probably found its way back to the clubhouse by now. If it hasn’t, I’ll have Nave swing it by.”
“Nave?”
“Friend,” he said. “Brother,” he clarified.
“You all have interesting names.”
“Nave is based on Navesink Bank,” he told me.
“Really? Why?”
“His parents were sentimental about the town, I guess.”
“It’s a solid town,” I said. “I’ve seen a lot of towns. This is the one I decided to settle down in.”
“Same,” Voss agreed.
I could sense a dozen stories there. A hundred.
I wanted to know them.
But as someone with a hundred stories as well, I understood how much you sometimes wanted to protect those, to keep them to yourself. So I didn’t press.
“So, what now?” I asked as we pulled into the clubhouse.
“You rest.”
“I mean, yeah. But I mean… what happens now?”
“I’m gonna reach out, talk to some people, see what we can do about checking your place for cameras. Figuring out if your neighbors saw anything. Maybe get some people on traffic cameras, so we can see if any caught the fuck who beat you’s car coming out around that area. That kinda shit.”
“I can’t ask you to do any of that.”
“Don’t remember you asking,” he said.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m doing it. Better you just get used to that,” he said as he climbed out of the car.
I smiled to myself a little as I watched him move around the car, grabbing my bags, then opening my door.
“Want a ride?” he asked when I winced when my crutches pressed into me again.