Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
He didn't need to know the timeline, though. At least not until we were all sure about him.
"Yep."
"What about you?"
"What about me?" I asked, giving the bartender a thanks as he dropped off a beer.
"Figure you weren't born into the club like the big names in the organization."
"No. I prospected a couple years back."
"Before that?"
"Before that I liked to beat the shit out of people."
"For money."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Partly," I added.
What could I say, I enjoyed it in a sick way. It was one thing me and Pagan, we had in common. I had a little repressed rage. It was good to have an outlet for it.
I could feel McCoy and Che's gaze on me. Remy, though, was checking his phone, ignoring us entirely.
"I wasn't expecting an interrogation when I got here, Huck. I thought we were going to have some fun."
"Huck is allergic to fun," Remy informed me, shaking his head.
"Someone has to be serious enough to keep your stupid ass in line."
"You only had to save me once this month," Remy told him, shrugging.
"From the fucking mob, Rem."
"How was I supposed to know it was their car I jacked?"
"Due-fucking-diligence," Huck reprimanded, but there wasn't any anger in his voice. It was the same tone Reign gave me. The one that said I was a pain in his ass, but he liked me, so he tolerated it. If there were any kind of resemblance, I'd say they were brothers. That was the dynamic they had.
"So you're the fuck-up," I mused, raising my beer toward Remy. "Me too," I told him, shrugging it off.
"You're the fuck up, and your president sent you down here?"
"Guess I'm your problem now," I agreed. "So where is this Teddy guy? How hot are the wom—" I started, trailing off as the door burst open.
And a small clutch of women stormed in—four in all, all of them moving in confidently, comfortable with a place not meant to feel that way.
Regulars.
"Speaking of fuck-ups," McCoy mumbled as the women loudly greeted several of the men situated around, nudging a few out of the way so they could get prime spots in front of the bar.
One of them, a short woman with wavy and slightly frizzy blond hair in cut-offs and a white tank with her very red bra showing, hopped herself up on the bar.
Every group of girls had a leader. Their alpha. The one that kept the crew together because everyone else wanted to be around her light.
That was this chick.
She knew it, too.
And it wasn't just because she was the prettiest with her somewhat strong jaw, oversize lips, honey-brown eyes, and compact, but curvy body.
It was just her.
Her aura.
She wore no jewelry save for the silver ring in her nose. And the only tattoo I could see was something on the top of her thigh, half-hidden by her shorts.
"No," Huck said, dragging my attention away from the woman who was accepting a shot.
"No?" I asked, brows furrowing.
"That's Gus," Remy informed me, shooting her a warm smile, one she winked back at.
"Gus?" I repeated.
"Augustina," Huck told me. "We call her Gus. I've called her Gus since she was born."
Oh.
"Your sister," I guessed, glancing back over at her, seeing it in the jaw, in the shape of the eyes.
Huck was practically a giant. And this woman would be called petite by any standards.
"Gus is why Huck makes us come here," Remy said.
"I have sisters," I told him. "I get it. Gotta keep an eye on them."
Even if my sisters would have my balls for even saying something like that, implying they would ever need me to take care of them.
"You don't have sisters like Gus," Remy told me, smiling, revealing fucking dimples.
"Yo," Huck called when my gaze moved back toward the woman who was climbing up to stand on the bar as her friends gained control of the jukebox, changing it away from the metal all the men had been playing and putting on some ass-shaking early two-thousands hip-hop. And, well, there was some ass shaking going on up on top of that bar. "No," Huck told me again, steely gaze holding mine.
"I get it," I assured him. "Gotta protect your sister.
To that, Huck snorted as he moved to stand, leaning slightly over the table to address me. "I'm not protecting her. I'm protecting you," he told me before turning, striding across the bar, reaching up, and hauling his sister down to the floor as she rolled her eyes at him.
"You're gonna want to brace yourself for impact," McCoy warned as Gus looked around her brother's shoulder, finally spotting me, determination making her eyes look brighter as she moved around Huck to make a beeline right for me.
"You're new," she informed me, dropping her ass down on McCoy like he was a chair, gaze on me as she took a long sip of whatever she was drinking from a bright pink bendy straw. There was no way to know this, but I highly suspected this bar only stocked those straws exclusively to cater to her.