Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
"Not now, Honey," Jack growled, but she ignored him, stepping directly into his path. I guess his old lady didn’t have the same fear of him everyone else did.
"Exactly now," she countered, her voice low but firm. She turned to Wren, taking her hands and examining her face. "You okay, sweetie?"
Wren nodded stiffly. "Fine."
Honey shot me a look that said she was not happy with me, then turned back to Jack. "Office?" She made the request like it was actually a request. In any other situation, I’d be laughing my ass off at the big bad MC president being managed by his old lady.
Honey hooked her arm through Jack’s and physically tugged him aside with a familiarity that surprised me. Jack allowed himself to be led a few steps away, their heads bent together in urgent conversation.
I stood awkwardly near Wren, close enough to catch her scent. Neither of us spoke or looked directly at each other, yet I felt her presence like a physical touch against my skin. The club members continued to watch us, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.
"She never could mind her own business," Wren muttered as she glared at her friend.
"Good thing?" I ventured, keeping my voice low.
Wren shrugged, her eyes fixed on Honey and Jack. Ghost had now joined the couple and they all seemed to be having a quiet, if spirited, discussion. "Depends on what she convinces him to do."
"They need to sort this shit out," Honey said, her voice rising just enough that her words carried clearly to where we stood. "Alone."
Ghost shook his head emphatically. "No fucking way I'm leaving her alone with him."
"They need space to talk," Honey insisted. "Whatever happened between them, they can't figure it out with you hovering like an overprotective helicopter parent."
Ghost's eyes narrowed dangerously. "He lied to her. Used her. And you want me to give them privacy?" Honey opened her mouth to reply. Then Ghost added, “And I’m not a helicopter parent, Goddammit!”
Honey didn't back down. "Yes. Because you know damn well she won't get closure otherwise."
Jack moved then shifted his weight, wrapping an arm around his woman. "She's right," he rumbled. "You crowd this, it only pushes the girl toward him."
Ghost looked between Jack and Honey, his jaw working as he processed their words. Finally, his shoulders dropped slightly—not surrender, but strategic retreat. "Fine," he spat the word like it tasted bad.
He turned to me, stabbing a finger in my direction. "You hurt her again, they won't find enough pieces to bury."
I nodded once. "Understood."
Honey smiled, squeezing Jack's arm, smiling up at him and mouthing a “thank you” before moving back to Wren. "Come on," she said, linking arms with her friend. She jerked her head, indicating I should follow.
We wound through the main building and out a back door, crossing a gravel yard toward a separate structure. The night air felt electric with tension, each step crunching loudly in the silence. Wren walked stiffly beside Honey, their heads bent together in whispered conversation I couldn't catch.
They led me to an apartment and stopped by the door. “I’ll check in with you in an hour,” Honey told Wren. “If you don’t text me back, I’ll send Jack and Ghost so make sure the thing’s on and the volume’s up.”
Wren opened the door and stepped inside, looking back over her shoulder and jerking her head for me to follow. Before Wren closed the door, Honey addressed me. “If you're playing her, I'll personally help Ghost get rid of whatever’s left of your body."
"If you think I’m playing her, why did you fight for me to have time with her now?" I had to know. If anyone had sway with Wren it would be this woman.
Honey didn’t hesitate. “Because I don’t think you’re playing her. I think you care about her as much as she cares about you.”
Honey shut the door as she left and the lock clicked behind her. Which left Wren and me truly alone for the first time since everything exploded between us. I had to fight my entire soul not to pull her into my arms and hold her as tightly as I could.
Instead, Wren moved to the kitchenette, putting physical distance between us. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed protectively over her chest. The harsh overhead light caught the purple strands in her hair, making them gleam like neon.
The silence stretched between us, thick and charged. Wren stood across the room, her body rigid with tension, green eyes fixed on me with an intensity that burned. I waited, letting her dictate how this would go. The clock on the microwave blinked its red numbers, marking seconds that felt like hours. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotion she fought to hide behind anger.
"You used me," she said, each word sharp enough to draw blood.