Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
She’d seen a club whore go over to him, but he hadn’t looked interested. She hated that she even cared. The alcohol was making her more emotional than she needed to be. This was just a sex deal, something to help save Nate’s life.
Mayhem meant nothing to her, was nothing more than a means to an end.
“Come on, sweetheart, before you fall and break your neck.” Ash held his hand out to her, and she took it. Before she was even fully off the bar, he had a glass of ice water for her and some pain pills. “For later, because you’re gonna need them.” He grinned, flashing a set of white, straight teeth. He certainly was the pretty boy of the bunch, even if he had that savageness going on.
“Two shots of scotch, Ash,” a club whore said, her gaze on Butters. There was this nasty scowl on her face, and Butters recognized her as the bitch that had been all up on Mayhem.
The bitch? Really? Simmer it down, girl. You don’t care, remember?
“I got this, Ash,” Butters said and set two shot glasses in front of the skank, grabbed the scotch, and poured the glasses full. “Bottoms up.” Bitch. Butters grinned.
The woman glared even harder, took the glasses, but before she turned around and left, she grinned at Butters.
“You see that biker over there?” She pointed to Mayhem, but Butters didn’t say anything. “I’m going to ride his dick so hard tonight he won’t be able to get it back up for a week.”
Butters was pissed, hated she felt any kind of jealousy, because it was all misplaced. She’d turned Mayhem down on more than one occasion, and no matter how attractive he was, how much she actually did want him, she kept her wall up. “Have fun with that,” Butters said, her smile in place and not showing any emotion. “Ash, I need some fresh air.” Before Ash replied or the bitch could respond, Butters turned and made her way out from behind the bar, headed down the hall, and slipped out the back door.
Outside, she leaned against the brick wall of the club, closed her eyes, and wished she hadn’t drunk so much because having this buzz meant she was having a hard time shutting off how she felt.
She rubbed her hand over her chest, feeling the tightness control her body, the alcohol making her overly emotional. Why did she care what anyone in this club did?
It’s not just this club or Mayhem. It’s everything.
Yeah, it was a little bit of everything, but the whiskey had made her feel things she’d tried to keep hidden deep inside of her.
Butters could hear some of the club members, even a sweet-butt or two talking just on the other side of the corner. The lighting was dim back here. The only thing illuminating this part of the building was a light attached to the massive, two-bay garage door across the way.
The yellow glow didn’t quite reach where she was, but that was okay because how she felt right now matched the shadows that surrounded her.
“Just get through this and everything will be fine.” She closed her eyes. “Nate will be fine, and you’ll go back to your boring life.” She could feel the music from the club thumping through her veins. Wrapping her arms around her waist she stared up at the sky. The moon was full and seemed so bright and large above her, slightly blurred from the whiskey she’d consumed. “It could be worse,” she whispered to herself.
She didn’t know how long she stood out there, but it felt like hours. In all reality, it was probably only a few moments, but it was the sound of boots hitting the ground right on the inside of the door that had her straightening.
The door opened, the shadows obscure so she couldn’t see anything but a big, dark figure, but she knew who it was. Butters didn’t move from her place, but the longer she stared at him, the more Mayhem’s form came into view.
The sound of a lighter going off, followed by Mayhem inhaling, told her he was smoking. A few seconds later, the scent of marijuana filled the small space around them. She was afraid to move, afraid to even breathe.
“You’re drunk,” Mayhem said, his back still to her.
When she didn’t respond, he slowly turned around, the joint between his lips, the end lit up orange as he inhaled from it. He pulled it away from his mouth, and after holding in the smoke for a few seconds, he exhaled.
The sweet cloud wafted around her, relaxing her.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“You didn’t ask a question,” she responded. He didn’t move, didn’t speak again right away, and didn’t show any emotion.
“I saw Easy talking with you. I can only imagine what the bitch said.”