Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
I could want forever. With her.
But loving Tammy isn’t easy. I showed her the scars I never showed anyone, and it was like ripping open an old wound and exposing myself to them. Like tearing out stitches I’d closed years ago. But now I know that I’d let Tammy stitch me up again a thousand times over if it means I get to keep her.
I’m man enough to admit that it scares the hell out of me the way she’s changed me. I’m not just a rough rider cruising through life without direction anymore. Now I have something worth protecting–someone worth fighting for. And I believe, deep down to my core, that no matter where life takes me now, Tammy will be right there at my side.
I barely remember to shut my bike off before throwing a leg over and striding into Jayne’s. My boots echo off the floor as I step into the room, which is damn quiet for this time of day. No sound of clinking glasses, people laughing. Hell, they don’t even have the music playing. There’s a handful of old drunks nursing their drinks in the back shadows who glance up when I enter, but they’re not who I’m looking for.
My eyes go to the bar, expecting to find Tammy wiping down glasses or the counter, her shy eyes twinkling when she sees me. But she’s not there. I only see George, who shifts uncomfortably when he notices me.
“Where’s Tammy?” I demand, my voice a bit more threatening than intended. He stiffens and puts his phone in his pocket. I can see by the look on his face that he doesn’t want to talk about this. Whatever this is.
“You just missed her Saxon,” he says with a sigh. “She ran outta here a few minutes ago.”
A dart of suspicion stings my chest. “Ran outta here?” I ask. “What does that mean?”
George glances around, like he’s looking for trouble. Does he think I’m gonna attack him or something? Is he responsible for this? Whatever this is?
“Look, man. I don’t want any trouble–”
“George,” I snap, leaning across the table and grabbing him by the shirt. “I don’t have time for this shit. Spit it out.”
His eyes flash, but before he can even get a word out, I go stiff. And not in a good way.
A familiar scent enters my nostrils.
Not Tammy’s.
Roxy’s.
“She was here,” I growl, every muscle in my body tightening as my heart begins to hammer against my ribs. “Wasn’t she?”
George knows who I’m talking about and immediately nods. “She showed Tammy something on her phone that really upset her. Tammy just about had a panic attack and ran outta here. I just finished cleaning up her puke before you came in.”
The room tilts as his words slam into me like a massive fist.
What the fuck happened?
“Where did she go, George?” I manage to hiss through my teeth.
He’s gripping my wrist now with both hands to keep his balance. “I don’t know, Saxon. She didn’t say. But if you wanna catch her–”
A growl boils up from my chest, and my free hand curls into a first. I’m this close from shattering his jaw, but what’s the point? What good would that do? It’s not George’s fault I stuck my dick in crazy and never cleaned it up before giving my love to Tammy.
No. This is all on Roxy.
And she will pay.
But right now, I have to find Tammy and fix this.
I drop George, spin on my heels, and storm out of the bar, my heart ready to explode as I throw my leg over my bike and gun it to life. The engine roars between my legs, quaking hot and heavy as I tear through the streets. I don’t know where Tammy is right now, but I know where Roxy is.
The clubhouse.
And if I’m gonna get my girl back, then I can’t be going in blind.
It should take me five minutes to get there, but the way I’m driving, I make it in less than three. I hop off the bike and snap at one of the recruits, Palmer, to kill the engine for me. There’s no time to waste. I’m striding inside, chest heaving, ready to explode.
The place is half full, with some of the guys playing pool and others drinking and chatting it up. Roxy stands out like a fox in a henhouse, leaning over the bar like she’s begging to get fucked, sipping a beer like she just got her lips done. When she sees me striding in her direction, her lips twist and her eyes narrow in a knowing smile. Almost amused.
“Trouble in paradise, big boy?” she practically meows, twisting a lock of her hair around her painted nail.
I don’t even answer. I just snatch her fucking phone right out of her hand, causing her to jump back and yelp. “Saxon, what the fuck–?”