Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“Are…are those girls still—?” I hate the way my voice quivers. I’m not scared of them—my knife rests heavy in my jeans pocket this morning—but last night was humiliating enough. I’ll melt into the floor if they embarrass me in front of the whole club that way.
“Gone.” His voice is firm and leaves no room for doubt. “Prospects know not to let any of them in the gate.”
I let out a shaky breath of relief.
He scrubs a hand over his face, then shakes his head. “We ended up banning our old president’s wife last year—”
“Really?” I blink up at him. “Wow. Why?”
“She pulled a nasty trick on Serena.” He frowns, jaw working side to side. “Tawny had been a problem no one wanted to deal with for years. She got to hide behind her old man’s president patch. But what she did to Serena was the final straw.” His lips curl into a cruel smirk. “I pushed hard for that ban and G had my back today.”
“Wow.” I hate that I’m about to ask this, especially after what he told me about Serena’s ex last night. But I can’t help it. “So, I’m not the only one who’s run into trouble with other women in the club?”
“No.” He frowns. “Those women weren’t ‘in’ the club. Just—club girls who hang around here sometimes. But yeah, I told you it happens. It shouldn’t, but it does.” He says it like it’s a fact of MC life he’s had to accept even though it pisses him off.
For a few seconds, neither of us say anything. I study his hard, but handsome face. How many other stories are there? Is he giving them to me in drips so that he won’t scare me away?
As if flipping an internal switch, he turns and walks over to his closet, sliding the door open. “Hey, you look really good, but will you wear this for me instead?” he asks, his voice low and so achingly sweet I couldn’t say no even if he handed me a pillowcase.
Thankfully, it’s a soft, faded blue hooded sweatshirt. I take it from him, fingers brushing his for a second too long, and hold it up to inspect the design. The skull and crown are printed in blue on blue. A subtle design. A whisper of his club’s insignia instead of a declaration.
“Am I allowed to wear it?” I tease, peeling off my own sweatshirt and tossing it onto the bed.
“Yes,” he answers in a slow, teasing tone. “Only thing you can’t wear is my cut.” His tone dips lower. “But I love you so damn much, I’d probably break that rule for you.”
“Wow, that is love,” I tease, pulling his sweatshirt over my head. It’s huge on me, but so soft and snuggly. “You know you’re never getting this back, right?”
“Fine by me.” He reaches out and adjusts the hood, his fingers slipping beneath to free my hair from the collar. “I like you in my club’s colors.” He brushes his knuckles along my jaw, and I lean into him, helpless against the gravity of his touch. “Looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He curls his fingers around mine, his palm warm and steady. “Ready? We don’t do the elaborate buffet like Upstate, but Lilly brought muffins and pastries from this bakery she loves. They’re actually really good. And there’s coffee, of course.”
“Oh, Lilly’s here?” That makes me feel better. Lilly seems to have such a kind, calming presence. My nose wrinkles. “Is Stella gone?”
“Eh, she’s still lurking somewhere. Lilly gets along with her.” He wobbles his free hand in the air. “Like, they’re cordial. I think it was really Z who didn’t want to be here to celebrate Stella, you know?”
He respects his wife too much to put her in that situation. I like Z even more now.
Outside our door, Rooster’s leaning against the opposite wall with his arms wrapped around Shelby.
Jigsaw stops short, squinting at him. “What are you, my guard dog?”
“Shelby didn’t want to head to the dining room without you guys.” Rooster’s amused gaze slides from Jigsaw to me. “Morning, Margot.”
“Morning.”
Shelby wiggles loose from Rooster’s hold and gives me a quick embrace. “Lost sight of ya last night.”
Her sympathetic tone suggests she already knows what happened. My cheeks warm and I shrug.
“We’re still waitin’ on Serena too,” Shelby says.
“You bang on Grinder’s door like you did ours?” Jigsaw says to Rooster.
Rooster sweeps his hand toward the door. “Be my guest.”
Jigsaw takes a step forward, then hesitates. “Nah. They’ve got Link with them. I don’t want to scare the little guy.”
“Exactly,” Rooster says, in that slow, exaggerated tone that sounds like a verbal pat on the head.
My lips twitch with laughter I’m holding back.
Shelby catches it and gently bumps her elbow against my side. “They’re always like this. Worse, if you can believe it.”