Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
She was makeup-free, and I found it refreshing that she was so uninhibited that she could step out of the house with what most women would consider a “naked” face.
Ready? I mouthed.
She gave a nod and closed the door behind her.
I eyed the lock that she should’ve had a key for, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.
“What manner were they killed?” I asked.
“Arrow,” he answered as I turned to make sure Birdee made it down the steps all right.
She walked slowly, but not warily, and I walked back to my truck and held the passenger door open for her.
She got inside, again slowly, but managed not to look too unbalanced.
I closed the door behind her before rounding the hood, and once again looking at the douchebags across the road.
They flipped me the bird when they caught me staring, and I snorted.
“Did they take any meat off the moose?”
“Nope.” Major sounded disgusted. “Just shot them and left ’em.”
What douchebags.
That meat could’ve fed the entire damn county.
“Which sight is the freshest?” I asked as I got inside the truck and started it up.
The phone automatically connected to Bluetooth, and Major’s reply came over the speaker as he said, “The one in Bear Pass.”
No wonder he’d assigned me to the case. It was in my backyard.
“I’ll head out there once I’ve dropped my passenger off.”
Major grunted out a ‘let me know how it goes’ and hung up.
It was as we were passing the man still asleep in the car that I said, “You know him?”
Birdee looked at where I’d jerked my chin and her face went wired, her entire body tensing like a bowstring pulled back to maximum capacity.
“Who is it?” I asked.
She drew in a deep breath. “That is—was—my stepfather.”
My brows rose. “Why’s your stepfather sleeping in his car in your neighborhood?”
As I asked this, I hit Gentry’s contact on the screen.
I didn’t go any farther than the end of the street before backing into Boone’s—the other member of the Dixie Wardens MC—driveway.
I saw his window blinds twitch—the paranoid bastard—and his front door open seconds later.
“Do you have any idea what time of the morning it is?” Gentry grumbled, sounding grumpy and tired.
“Nearing eight o’clock, which is a pretty normal time for the majority of the United States population,” I pointed out. “I need you to do some drive-bys on Birdee’s neighborhood again. Got a situation.”
“What?” he asked, sounding much more alert now. “Is it the fuckin’ Hubers again? If it is, I don’t have enough patience to deal with them again.”
“Not them,” I said. “Birdee’s stepfather is currently sleeping in a car outside of Hux’s house. I want you to come get him out of here and warn him to stay away.”
He sighed. “That’s something any officer can do,” he pointed out, not coming right out and saying it doesn’t require me to do it because it’s not going to be anything illegal.
Let’s just say that though Gentry was a sheriff’s department deputy, he wasn’t altogether an upstanding kind of guy.
He did have a point, though.
“Can you call them and get them out here fast before he decides that he has somewhere else to be?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “But then I’m going back to bed, so don’t call me back until around noon. I’ll get an update for you when I’m done waking up.”
My lips quirked. “Sounds good.”
When I hung up, I turned to look at Birdee just as Huxley made it to the passenger window.
In his underwear.
I rolled it down and said, “You couldn’t have put some pants on.”
“I was a concerned homeowner,” he lied, his gaze going to Birdee.
His eyes narrowed when he saw the gash on her forehead.
“What happened to your face?” he asked bluntly.
Birdee turned her gaze away from the car her ex-stepfather was sleeping in to the man who was dressed in nothing but a pair of moccasins and underwear.
In thirteen-degree weather, might I add.
“Creed hit me with his truck,” she murmured. “Creed, I have to get to work. If you can’t drive me, I need to start walking.”
Hux’s gaze met mine and his brows rose.
I shook my head and got out of the truck, rounding it to the back tailgate where Hux met me.
Hux was tattooed practically from neck to waist. There wasn’t a single inch of bare skin on his upper torso that didn’t have multicolor ink staining it.
I, luckily, didn’t have any identifying ink on my arms or anything exposed, enabling me to get out of the painful tattoo removal that Gentry had to go through.
“I heard that there was an accident here last night, but I didn’t realize it was you,” he said.
I rubbed at my face with my hands, then explained everything, leading up to just about five minutes ago when I spotted her stepfather.
“I’ll keep an eye on him while you get her to work,” he said. “I’ll call if anything exciting goes down.”