Bad Apple Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Uncertain Saints MC, #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Uncertain Saint's MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
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And that had been the turning point…the fork in the road, as one would say.

“I knew, as soon as I heard the man say that, that it wasn’t going to be a good case. Then he’d gone and proved me right by continuing to verbally beat down his wife over and over again, forcing her to agree to his edicts, all because he controlled the money and she didn’t,” I sighed, dropping my head into my hands. “I hate it. But I like it all at the same time. I like helping my clients win. I like my part in helping the kids get what they deserve.”

Apple nodded.

“I’m not a full time lumberjack,” he said finally, going back to our earlier topic. “But my dad’s business is his livelihood, and if I’m not there to do it, he can’t pay his bills.”

That made more sense, and I now had a reason for him and his reluctance to speak more on the subject.

He got up and grabbed himself a beer from the cooler, along with another drink for me.

He handed them both to me as a commotion at the front of the room had me smiling as another member’s wife, Tasha, was giving her husband, Casten, the verbal smack down.

She was a fireball, that was for sure.

“Thank you,” I muttered, reaching for the bottle to twist the lid off.

He took it back out of my hands and twisted the top of effortlessly before handing it back without another word.

I thanked him again before taking another sip.

I was going to regret drinking in the morning, without a doubt. But I couldn’t get my thoughts sorted out, and to do that, I needed to let go a little bit.

“Are they fighting about goats?” He asked.

I nodded. “She wants some, and he doesn’t.”

“I can tell that,” he sipped his beer. “But don’t they live in the city.”

I nodded. “She saw a video last week about a goat as a house pet. The owners even took them on walks and everything.”

“Interesting,” he murmured. “I have goats.”

“You do?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, but they’re not pets.”

I smiled, unable to help myself.

Hearing that this big badass in his tight red t-shirt, faded blue jeans that had holes in both the knees, as well as where I guessed his keys were held in his pockets, with his tight leather vest had goats really made me want to laugh.

He was the exact opposite of what I expected him to be when I walked into the clubhouse today.

Fun, came to mind.

I drank my lemonade, smiling from time to time when the man would have something funny to say.

And when he asked me to help him start picking up the trash, I didn’t even hesitate. I just helped him.

My brother gave me a weird look, but ultimately ignored me for the conversation he was having with a few men from the police department.

People started to leave, and the only ones left, by the time I thought it sufficiently clean enough, were my brother, Peek, the president, and his wife, Casten and his wife, Mig and his wife, Apple and me.

“Thanks for the help,” Apple thanked me genuinely.

I shrugged and picked up a new bottle of lemonade from the cooler, then sat on the only open seat, which happened to be the fireplace ledge.

Apple started to lean against the mantle, but I moved over slightly, giving him room to sit next to me.

Although it was a tight fit, he didn’t complain.

“Thanks,” he grunted.

I nodded, too busy smelling him to say ‘you’re welcome.’

“I think we should go on a fun run two weeks from now,” Peek boomed, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “We haven’t gone on one in a couple of months, and now that everyone’s finally free of babies and shit, I want to go. To Arizona.”

“What’s in Arizona?” I found myself asking.

It’s not like I was invited to go.

In fact, I hadn’t ever been on the back of a motorcycle.

My brother was too scared of the possible consequences of me falling off during one of my ‘fits’, as he liked to call them, that I never bothered asking him anymore.

I peeled the label off my bottle, completely forgetting that I’d even asked a question until the room got silent around me, finally making me pull my head up in confusion.

They were all staring at me.

Even the newbie.

“What?” I mumbled.

My brother was the one to answer.

“Mr. Prospect here just asked you if you wanted to ride with him to Arizona,” Ridley teased, making it sound like he knew I would turn him down. “And to answer your question, nothing’s in Arizona. We just like to go to different places and see the sights.”

My brother’s face looked so superior, so sure of himself, that I wanted to knock him down a notch.

He was always doing that, acting like he knew what was best for me, and it was suffocating.


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