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)
“So, how did you meet? One of your club buddies beat her up?”
She still hadn’t turned around.
“No, I never met her before today. Gena asked for a favor because Heidi was too scared to come here alone. Thought her husband would find out.”
So, he rescued her and brought her here to safety. He was the hero in this story. And she was giving him a hard time. Grace wanted to kick herself. This wasn’t who she was. But years of listening to her parents talk down motorcycle clubs because of her sister’s death had obviously rooted into her subconscious.
She took a breath after putting another can on the shelf, then turned around to face him.
“Did she choose a toy?”
“Yeah, a sheep, I think. You can check for yourself.”
Being this close made her realize just how tall and built the guy was. He had a lot of ink on his arms, but she tried not to stare and looked at the floor instead.
“I’ll talk with both of them when I settle them in their room. The mom looks really scared.” Then she remembered what he said earlier. “Is that why you’re checking the alarm system?”
He shook his head. “Nothing to do with her. I’m okay with electronics so I do repairs at the shelters when they need it. I’m usually at the Bridgewood location, but seems this place needs some love, too.”
That’s why she’d never seen him before. Grace hadn’t been to the other shelter locations. She took the city transit everywhere and this one was about twenty-minutes’ walking distance from her apartment.
“Look, I’m really sorry about earlier. I just—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he interrupted. “You did good. You have fire, and you wanted to protect them. I respect that.”
Then he turned to leave, walking down the hall to the entrance. Before leaving out the door, he said, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
And for some reason, she hoped she did.
****
Reaper drove through the club gates, his engine rumbling as he parked in his usual spot. Tarmac and Brick were working on a bike, parts set out on a blue tarp. Tarmac was flat on his back, using a wrench to tighten a bolt.
“Where’ve you been, big boy?” Brick asked.
“Just doing my rounds.”
He was the club enforcer, and he always ensured their territory was secure, collected debts, and handled a ton of issues every day. His position had a lot of fucking responsibility, and he didn’t take it lightly. The last thing he needed was to be questioned. No one was more loyal to the club than he was.
“Lord was looking for you.”
Reaper only grunted. His prez was hardcore and he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. He headed over to his office, standing in the doorway until Lord called him in. Once inside, Reaper immediately went to the bar and poured himself a drink. It had been a weird fucking day.
“You wanted to see me?”
“You hear any rumblings about a hit from someone high up?”
“A hit?” He carried his glass toward Lord’s desk, sitting on the edge.
“Something was posted this morning on the dark web. Don’t have much details, but it’s in our neck of the woods. Look into it. Make sure none of our brothers is the target.”
“I’ll do that.”
He was on board with Lord. No one did business on their turf without consequences. He’d make it his mission to find out who was playing God and make them live to regret it.
“Look, Reaper, I know about your little guilty pleasure. Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with your club duties.”
He paused, unsure if he’d even heard his prez right.
“Have I fucked up?” He got to his feet, his drink sloshing slightly. “You think I’m not one hundred percent on my game?”
Yeah, he was fucking insulted. His prez was insinuating he couldn’t do his charitable work and handle shit around the club at the same time.
“I ain’t saying shit. Just do you job, and we’ll all be happy.”
He started to leave the office. “I’ll find out about this problem. I just need a little time.”
“As long as you’re on it,” Lord said. The prez’s phone rang, and he leaned back in his chair and started talking, not a care in the world.
Reaper headed down the long hallway toward his room at the very end. He liked his space on the main floor in case shit went down. He wanted to be able to get to his bike fast, no levels of staircases slowing him down. Over the years, he’d personally put everything on the line when the Skull Nation tried to erase them. He had bullet wounds and a shitload of emotional baggage, and he was still here.
He didn’t appreciate his prez making assumptions about him. What he did in his free time was his own fucking business.
Reaper got to his room and immediately stripped out of his street clothes and hit the shower. Riding the back roads was dusty and he wanted it all off him. His thoughts drifted to that little firecracker at the shelter. She had spunk, even took him by surprise. Being half his size, it took a lot of moxy to try and take him on.