Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
The douchebag scoffed. “Bitch, if you were trying to hide, you shouldn’t have been runnin’ your mouth to all the other useless gash I employ.”
Only Gramps’s hand on my chest stopped me from ripping him back out of the car.
Seconds later he pulled away, spraying gravel like a moron.
“Don’t wanna deal with this bullshit again,” Dragon muttered, shooting me a look. “Waste of my goddamn time.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emilia said, her voice hitching.
Dragon ignored her as he walked back toward the clubhouse.
“I didn’t mean for—” Emilia’s words cut off as my dad wrapped his hands around her head, his palms on her cheeks, pulling her closer so he could kiss her forehead.
“Family takes care of family,” he murmured. “Don’t matter if you took five hundred or five million, yeah? It’s over.”
“Hell yeah, we do,” Rumi said with a grin.
Dad, Gramps and Rumi walked away, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the forecourt.
“I didn’t take five thousand dollars,” Emilia said, turning to me. “I swear, Michael. I only took what he owed—”
“You don’t think you shoulda given me a heads up?” I asked in frustration.
I’d thought we’d gotten past all that shit. I thought she’d told me everything. Instead, her old boss had shown up at the club while they were throwing her a fucking welcome to the family barbeque saying she stole a bunch of money. Jesus, had Rumi been right when he’d reminded me I didn’t know her anymore?
“Jesus Christ, Emilia,” I spat. “What else aren’t you tellin’ me?”
“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “Nothing, that’s it.”
“Right,” I muttered, stepping around her. “Go back inside.”
The rage I’d tamped down for years bubbled, and I found myself clenching and unclenching my hands. I’d never hurt Emilia, not in a thousand years, but all of the anger coursing through my veins needed a goddamn outlet.
She’d been in Oregon for a week and she hadn’t said shit. She’d driven my son from Arizona with a target on their backs, and she hadn’t said shit. We were goddamn lucky that he’d shown up at the club. That motherfucker could’ve shown up at our house at any time while Emilia and Rhett were there alone, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. He could’ve found them at some cheap ass motel off the interstate before I’d even known Emilia was coming back to me or that Rhett existed. I thought about every time I’d come home from work while Rhett was playing in the back yard, the trips to the grocery store that Emilia had gone on alone, the way she’d had sagged in relief when she said they were finally here, the way she’d glossed over the fact that her boss might be looking for her because she’d turned him down, the way I’d been blindsided when he showed up at the club asking to talk to whoever was in charge. The nasty look in his eyes as he’d watched Emilia defend herself, scared and shaking.
“Come on,” I barked, grabbing Emilia’s hand. I towed her behind me back to the clubhouse.
“I’m sorry,” she said, struggling to keep up. “I know I should’ve said something, but—”
“We’ll talk about it later,” I ground out.
I knew myself. I knew that I needed to get my emotions under control before we had any kind of conversation. My skin felt too tight over my bones, almost itchy, so heated that I was sweating even in the cool air.
I brought Emilia to the table and left her standing next to my gram as I searched for Rumi. He was standing with Nova by the pool tables and the minute our eyes met, he nodded. He must’ve recognized the look on my face, he’d seen it before.
“Give these to Emilia,” I ordered, tossing my keys to Nova.
“What?” she asked in confusion, barely catching them. “Wait, why can’t you give them to her?”
“Thanks, No!” Rumi called over his shoulder as we walked away. “I’ll call you later.”
Rumi thumped me on the back as we left the clubhouse.
“We’re gonna party like it’s 1999,” he sang.
“You brought the truck?”
“Why?” He grinned. “Don’t feel like riding bitch on the back of my bike?”
“Never gonna fuckin’ happen.”
Rumi rolled his eyes. “I brought Nova,” he said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “And you know she won’t ride on the bike, so yeah. I brought the truck.”
“Hey, where you guys goin’?” Otto called out as he strode forward to meet us. “I just got here!”
“Gonna go tear some shit up,” Rumi replied jovially.
“Everythin’ good?” Otto looked at me closely.
“Just goin’ to blow off some steam,” I muttered. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Depends on the favor.”
“Can you hang at my place tonight until I get home?”
“You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“I’ll explain it all later,” I promised, glancing behind me. I had a feeling that at any moment Emilia was going to follow us outside and I really didn’t want to get into it with her again. “Just keep an eye on things.”