Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Well, yeah, Bo,” I hum. “I’m thinking you should worry.”
Bo’s features shift into one of disgust. “You must be the new guy.”
My lips spread into a cold smile. It has no humor at all. It’s a sign that I’m going to enjoy killing this S-O-B if he doesn’t learn respect quickly. From the way his shoulders flex and tighten, I can tell that for some insane reason Bo thinks he’s in control right now. Maybe he thinks I won’t dish out old school judgment. From what I hear, Ace made sure to stay in the lines—not wanting trouble with the law. That’s not who I am. The War Kings, Deputy Davis, Alex, and especially Bo Ridley will learn that shit the hard way.
“This is my club now,” I confirm. That simple sentence tasted good on my lips. I wasn’t sure how I’d like it here, to be honest. Taking over a club in trouble was a crap shoot. Maybe it was finding Georgia, but now this place is definitely feeling like home.
“I don’t have anything to do with you assholes,” he grumbles, all bravado and stupidity. “What are you doing trespassing on my property and bothering me?”
I tilt my head and study him, looking at him the way you watch a piss ant on a picnic blanket trying to find food—full of curiosity, before growing tired enough to snuff it out. Bo was a small, bitter piece of shit. That makes him dangerous only because men like him have no moral compass, no loyalty, and no purpose in life. They are rotten on the inside and it shows in everything they do.
I pull myself from my thoughts and concentrate on the idiot. “You see, Bo, I found out that you actively hurt someone that I care about. I’m here to make sure you treat her with respect from here on out.”
He laughs, the sound almost as ugly as he is. “Man, I don’t even know you. I have no idea what you’re talking about. You need to get off my land or I’m calling the cops. My nephew works at the police department in town. One word from me and they’ll make your life a living hell.”
I genuinely laugh at that. Lord, this idiot has no idea who he’s fucking with. “Bo, I’m going to make you and my men a promise right now. When I’m done with you, you aren’t going to be able to call anyone, asshole.” My voice is cold, filled with hate. You can tell that I’m trying to control myself so that I don’t end this game too soon. I can feel my men at my back, their gazes beating down, watching me, and prepared to help if I need it.
“Bo, my woman tried to warn you that your barn was going to catch on fire,” I said, and I can see the confusion crawl across his features. “You might not have known what to make of what she said, I can understand that. Still, I also know that a real man would have laughed it off and told her thanks for reaching out. Instead, you belittled and mocked her. Then, when it did burn and you lost everything because you didn’t try to listen to her, you harassed her by starting rumors and doing shit that made her life a living hell. You did all that because you’re a miserable piece of shit.”
Bo’s eyes narrow so much that it looks painful. “You’re screwing that Cutter bitch?” he sputters. “You deserve whatever curse she puts on you. That woman is pure evil.”
That’s when my control breaks. No one talks shit about Georgia—not anymore. I won’t allow it. I don’t think twice. I draw my hand back, clutch my fingers into a tight fist, and connect with the bastard’s face. He topples over like a house of cards in a windstorm. He’s a chubby fucker, though. Which means, he goes down hard—all while clutching his nose that is pouring bright red blood, across his withered features. He lets out a raw cry full of enough shock and fear that it could wake the dead. I ignore it and kick the asshole hard in the ribs with my steel-toed boots.
“You bastard!” he cries—voice raw, muffled by his hand pressed over his nose. He can’t even pretend to be a man. He’s just a whiney waste of space. I step closer, then squat down so that my face is level with his. I grab the hair at the back of his head and yank it hard enough to make him scream again.
“Georgia Cutter is my woman,” I tell him, slow and cold. “You may not know me, but I’m not a man you want to mess with. She’s under my protection.” My words are a growl by the time I finish. Bo doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut. He’s trying to shrink out of the space I just filled — stupid move. “In case you don’t understand that,” I add, as my fingers tighten in his hair. “It means if you so much as look at her, I’ll end you. If I hear you running your mouth about her, my club, or me, I’ll end you. If you see my sweet Georgia out somewhere, you leave immediately. Asshole, you don’t walk away from her, you run. You don’t breathe the same air as her at any time. Do you hear me, Bo?”