Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Coulda gone worse,” I venture.
“Oh, yeah. It’s fine. Emily, the nicest person I’ve ever met, probably hates me. Her husbands think I’m a threat and they might be right. You guys should probably hate me, too.” She continues before I can break in. “My father might never forgive me, and I still don’t know if I did the right thing. Ever. This whole time.”
Melody drops her forehead onto her arm and groans. “And I kinda smell,” she says in a sad little muffled voice.
“I can help with the last part, at least. Hey, Rebel? Why don’t you figure out where her shit went and bring us back lunch from somewhere.”
He looks at me and nods before squatting down to be on level with her hidden face. He puts a hand on her back, rubbing in small circles. “I promised we’d get you out of this, right?”
“Even though you think I’m here to destroy your club?” she mumbles into her arm.
Rebel sighs. “Shit. I don’t think any of us really think that. Lightning is stable for now, and the Screaming Eagles have been through a hell of a lot more than this. In a month this will all be water under the bridge.”
“And I’ll be long gone.” She sounds almost wistful.
“Or not.” I pull her up out of the chair. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. You can borrow something from me until Rebel brings your bag.”
She stands, and her mouth turns up a little at the corner. “You have a lot of clothes in my size?”
“I have a lot of clothes you’ll fit into. I didn’t say anything about fitting well.” Though the idea of her wandering around in one of my shirts with the collar hanging open to show some skin… I don’t hate it. “We’ll make it work.”
15
MELODY
God, I thought Shadow was going to kill me right there at the table. Bikers don’t screw around when it comes to protecting their own, that’s for sure.
Mad Dog lives on the second floor of a huge housing extension off the back of the warehouse. I don’t know how many guys live here, but it’s like walking through a hotel, room after room marked with names instead of numbers. Apparently the houses are mostly reserved for the families, and the single guys live either in these rooms or across the street where they own the building and have apartments.
“Is it safe to come out?” I ask through a crack in the door, a towel wrapped tightly around my chest. In spite of everything, Mad Dog still feels safe, but I’m not interested in giving anyone else a show. I already feel like I’ve been stripped down and examined enough for one day.
His room is basically a studio apartment. Small bathroom, kitchenette on one wall. There’s a bed pushed to one side, a sitting area with a couch, and some basic furniture. Some photos are tacked to the wall, and an odd frame with a bullet in it. Otherwise, it’s very much a guy’s room, all function, no form, but it’s clean and the bed is made.
“Just me out here. If you think that’s safe, then yes.”
I push the door open. The cool air outside the hot bathroom raises goosebumps on my arms. “Rebel’s not back yet?”
“No, he has a couple stops to make first.” Mad Dog hands me a T-shirt and a pair of boxers that I’ll probably have to roll up at least a few times so they don’t slide right off. “Here. This’ll keep you covered for the moment.”
As expected, the clothes are way too big, but he’s right. It’ll work for now, even if the T-shirt hangs almost to my knees. I carry my dirty clothes out of the bathroom. “What should I do with these?”
“Do I look like your maid?” He grins but takes the pile from me. “I’ll toss it in with my stuff later and get it back to you.”
“Don’t worry, even if you wash my socks I’ll still remember you’re one of the guys who might kill my dad.” I say it as a joke, but the truth in it lands like a brick. “Sorry. Too soon?”
Just shut up, Melody!
“Fuck.” Mad Dog’s hand scrapes over his stubble. “Baby, I can’t guarantee it won’t happen, but I can promise it wouldn’t be done lightly, and I won’t be the one to do it.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” I snap back before I can stop myself. Mom used to yell at me all the time for not being able to just keep my mouth shut. She told me that eventually I’d say the wrong thing to the wrong person and regret it. I guess she was right.
“Does being a bitch make you feel better?” Mad Dog isn’t yelling, but this man who’s been so freaking steady and supportive has clearly reached his limit. “Guess what? The whole situation is fucked, and you didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did we. If you think we’re monsters, remember that we didn’t drag you into this world. Your daddy and his asshole friends did. I want you to think real hard and tell me if you think he’d be as forgiving. We’re all just trying to do the best we fucking can right now.”