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)
“I hear you’re the big man around here,” Reaper said.
“Huh? I don’t know.”
“That’s right. You don’t. I’ll tell you right now, one time, about how things work around here.” He used his hand for emphasis. “You’re not a patched member. The prez is up here, you’re way down here. A tiny fish. Fish shit. You’re supposed to be proving yourself, making us want to keep you around. Right now, you’re fucking up by pissing off the big boys around here. Ones with weight. That makes it my problem. So, calm the fuck down, act your rank, or I’ll toss you out myself. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Use your fucking words, prospect.”
“Yes, Reaper. It won’t happen again.”
He slammed the door shut with emphasis and made his way back out to the yard.
Lord and Ally were sitting on the love seat under the gazebo. When his prez called him over, he internally groaned. He hoped the other guys hadn’t said too much about the shelter or Grace.
“There you are, stranger,” Lord said.
“I’m always around. You need something done. It’s done.”
He could tell Lord wasn’t interested. The look on his face and the way he was sitting meant he was in one of his rare good moods. Usually, his old lady brought out the best in him.
“I hear you’re walking around with blue balls.”
“Lord,” Ally chided.
“It’s true. He can’t even take what he fucking wants. It’s not a good look.”
“I don’t claim women. I’m not an animal,” he said, trying to keep his cool.
“That’s good, Reaper,” Ally said. “It’s good to take things slow.”
Why did everyone know more about his love life than him? What love life? They had pie, nothing more. He didn’t know the texture of her lips or the softness of her skin. She was a complete mystery to him.
Then he blurted. “We had pie together.” Oh, fuck. He was just so happy about it inside he wanted to share. Not with Lord, but Ally.
“That’s so sweet,” she said. “I’m rooting for you, Reaper.”
“Fucking pussy,” Lord muttered.
Reaper ignored his prez. It wasn’t his place to talk back. Ally swatted him to shut him up, which worked. Once they started making out, he used the chance to slip away.
He thought about how little he knew about Grace, and he didn’t want his brothers to look up things he didn’t even know. So, he headed to the office and started to do his own search without involving Copper.
Grace Evans
Twenty-Seven
Orphaned
He exited the screen, and bolted out of his chair as if the computer had caught fire. Reaper felt a deep wave of guilt, like he was invading her personal space when he’d researched hundreds of people before without issue. He didn’t want to know more. Not like this.
He remembered their time at the diner. It had been a long while since he connected with another person outside the club. They laughed, they teased, they related to each other. She was starting to invade his thoughts.
This wasn’t about getting her not to hate him anymore. It was about hoping she could love him one day.
Chapter Six
A few days later, Grace was standing in the bubble tea shop, and she hated to admit it, but she was a little depressed. She didn’t want to be feeling this way, and yet she was, and she had a horrible feeling it was because she hadn’t seen a certain biker.
Even though she had gone to the women’s shelter, each time she did, she either just missed Reaper, or he hadn’t turned up, which shouldn’t bother her. It really shouldn’t, yet that was exactly what was happening.
She hadn’t seen him, and she couldn’t stop replaying that pie in her mind. It wasn’t like it was even a very good pie. It wasn’t. Well, that wasn’t accurate. Any sweet pie with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream was heavenly. The company just happened to be more so.
She ran fingers through her hair and released a breath. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t even funny. Reaper was a biker, and she should steer clear of him. Only, he was a good biker. She sensed it, which was crazy. All bikers were bad. All of them had terrible reputations, and she didn’t want to get involved in that kind of crazy. She didn’t want to end up like her sister.
Grace glanced over at the time, which was just after eight at the bubble tea shop. It had been another hot day, and seeing as the tea shop offered a variety of drinks from hot to cold, as well as baked goods, she had been on her feet since ten that morning. She was tired. Her feet hurt, and she wanted to go home. Today, she wasn’t going to the shelter.
As she made her way to the door, to flick the sign to CLOSED, she frowned. She must be going crazy, or there had been a spate of black SUV purchases in the past few weeks. She was sure that was the exact black SUV she’d seen near the women’s shelter, and even around her home. Only, she hadn’t gotten the license plate, so it was probably her imagination.