Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Dingo hit C?” Billy shouts, dropping his arms from his chest.
“Yes, now move,” I demand, walking toward the door as Billy walks around me, heading to the gun safe.
“Hold on a minute, I don't know who C is, but I thought you were trying to get rid of the girl in your building?” Flynn asks confused.
“I was... am... I don't know. I told you; I don't want any shit over this.” I’m confused, I don’t know what my intentions are with Kitten, and I don’t want to lay it out in detail right now. I’m only focused on pulling the trigger of the pistol, watching the bullet sink into his chest, sweeping the life from his body in split seconds.
“Okay, just hold on a second, Dingo is one of Roscoe's little shitheads, so your mission here does involve the club!” Flynn states.
“I'll take the blowback. Roscoe comes around, you send him straight to me,” I say, pointing my finger in my chest.
“Let me finish,” he says, holding up his hand. “This girl is someone you both know, so if someone hurt her then the club has an obligation to get involved. But it’s fucking Roscoe, this is next level shit and I don’t want y’all throwing us into her mess just for a piece of ass.”
“She’s not just a piece of ass,” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, so you’ll claim her as yours? Put a patch on that she’s your old lady?”
My eyes narrow in on Flynn, the fact he would have me claim C is ridiculous, but he’s right. I wouldn’t put the club in jeopardy if it was just a piece of ass. The thought of someone touching her, whether it’s lover or foe, has me seeing red.
“Just think about that. Take Billy with you, and please, Linc, I can tell by the way you’re acting you got some personal feelings fueling you. So, I know you want to shoot his head off, but please don't kill him.... just...rough him up,” he orders, his hands waving the take it easy sign.
“Come on,” Billy says, ignoring us, carrying the Marlin .22 papoose rifle case.
Heading out to our bikes, I tell Billy all about finding C in the doorway with a bruised handprint on her face. I then repeat the whole story she told me, all the way down to the dogs looking starved. And how I used some of the details in her story to track down Dingo as the one responsible.
“She is going back there with weed and dog food once a month? Is she nuts?”
“She doesn't know that's not happening yet. I'll deal with that part later,” I explain. He shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles.
“Good luck with that, she's stubborn as hell.” Starting our bikes, we head toward Route 6.
Pulling up the driveway, I am immediately pissed that Kitten went through with talking to this guy. You can tell by looking around the people who live here are lowlife thugs, the type of people who don't care about shit. Parking, Billy assembles the rifle in record time.
“Done, let’s do this,” he grumbles, his anger taking center stage for the occasion. I nod and we start walking up to the sidewalk. Dingo and Dylan come out on the porch, their arms across their chests. “What the fuck you two doing here?”
“I'm here to find out why you think it's okay to slap a woman in the face,” I state, clenching my teeth.
“What girl?” he questions, acting stupid.
“How many fucking girls have you slapped today?” I yell, stepping up on the porch.
“Fuck you and her, that girl should watch her smart mouth.” Billy raises his gun. “Easy there, homeboy, that girl’s my friend.”
“What about you, Linc? She your friend too?” He smirks, pressing my fucking nerves.
“You don't need to worry about what she is to me,” I growl, lifting my chin as I scowl.
“Holy shit, you in love with her? Come to defend her honor and shit?” He snorts then continues, “You think if you come here and kick my ass that girl is gonna have something to do with you? Shit, she's way out of your league, Linc.” He shakes his head, laughing. “That young lady is smart and sexy... like a smart sexy scientist. She ain't gonna have anything to do with your lowlife biker ass.”
His words are pissing me off, because he's right. She is way out of my league, even if she doesn't know it. Grabbing him by his collar, I throw him up against the trailer. Leaning into him, I clutch his collar in my left fist and seethe in his ear. “You think I can’t have her? I was fingers deep in that pussy an hour ago,” I comment, holding my right hand up to his face, fanning my fingers so he can smell her dried juices on them. He closes his eyes, sniffs, then his tongue darts out of his mouth toward my fingers. “The fuck!” I yell, jerking my hand away. “Did you just try to lick my fingers?” I ask disgusted.