Series: Straight to Hell MC Series by Sam Crescent
Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Hopefully, I can lock up now,” she said as they both stepped out under the awning. It was still raining, but not quite as hard.
“You know the diner across the street closes in thirty minutes,” he said.
She punched in the security code, then looked at him.
“I’m not going on a date with a biker.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I was just offering you pie.”
She rolled her eyes, but followed him across the street, holding her coat over her head. There weren’t too many cars at this time of night. The shelter was just on the outskirts of the city but still on the bus route.
When they entered the diner, the little bells chimed against the glass doors. The people inside all turned and stared at Reaper. It was almost comical. She wondered if it was like that everywhere he went. Grace had to admit she felt safe being with him at this hour.
They got a booth by the glass wall, sitting opposite each other. The waitress came over quickly and they both ordered pie. She got coconut cream and he got pumpkin.
“I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” she said.
“Couple times.”
“You know, I noticed a lot of people staring when we came in. Does it bother you?”
He leaned closer to her on his forearms as if he was about to tell her a secret. “Everyone’s afraid of me. You were too,” he said, then pulled back slightly.
She realized she’d stereotyped him just like everyone else and felt ashamed of herself.
“I wasn’t afraid.”
“Was it just raw hate, then?” He gave her that smirk again and she briefly saw a dimple on his left cheek. She instinctively reached out to touch it with her fingertip. Grace wasn’t expecting the power that would come from that brief touch. She pulled back right away and tried her best to hide how much it affected her.
“You have a dimple,” she said.
“Do I?”
“You do.” She was staring at the table, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.
“So, Grace, are you ever going to tell me why you hate bikers so much?”
She definitely didn’t want to go down that road tonight or ever. Grace looked at her watch. “We have like fifteen minutes. That would take a lot longer.”
The waitress came and set their pies down in front of them, along with the bill.
“Enjoy.”
“I love whipped cream,” she said, trailing her fork through the topping. “Do you think she left the bill because she wants us out of here asap?”
“Definitely.”
They both laughed.
Why was she so relaxed with him? She felt safe, heard, respected.
“How much time do you need?” he asked.
“To eat this?”
“No, to tell me why you hate bikers.”
“It’s just hard. It brings up too many feelings that I don’t want to feel anymore.”
“It’s not good to bottle things up,” he said.
She thought about the ton of baggage he must have hidden inside of him, but kept her mouth shut.
****
Reaper pulled into the compound. He was soaked through and couldn’t wait to hit the shower and crash into bed for the night. The rain had finally stopped.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Tarmac asked.
“I stuck around a bit. Power went out.”
Copper took a swig of his beer, stepping closer to Reaper’s bike. “How? Everything should be working like a charm.”
“Just the weather. Tripped the breaker.”
“You know you owe us big time,” Tarmac said. He was sitting on a lawn chair, flicking through his phone. “This isn’t fucking UNICEF. I didn’t sign up for charity work.”
“You’ll get paid. Relax.”
“What about that chick?”
That caught his attention and he whirled around toward Tank. “What chick?”
They all scoffed like fucking little schoolgirls giggling about a boy.
“If you have something to say, say it,” Reaper said.
“What he means is, you’ve got the hots for that blonde at the shelter.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, okay, buddy,” Tarmac said. “You were practically drooling every time she walked by.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Am I?”
“I don’t have time for your old lady gossip. I’m hitting the shower.”
“What happened?” Tank asked. “You crash and burn?”
He wasn’t going to get into this with his brothers. As club enforcer he was responsible for keeping the peace, not rearranging faces. Reaper didn’t think he was that transparent when it came to Grace. He’d have to be more careful.
He took a quick shower, tossing all his wet clothes in the hamper.
It was late so he went outside to do his rounds, check the locks, gates, and make sure all the fires were out. He had a note about one of the newer prospects throwing his weight around and the older boys were talking. It wasn’t going to work for him. Reaper went over to the prospect’s room, banging on the door with his fist.
“What the fuck?” He opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Reaper said nothing at first, just stared him down until his bravado came down a few notches.