Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
His eyes snap to mine, a vein in the side of his head protruding. The vile things going through his mind right now would make the most savage of outlaws shiver with fear. I heard he used to be a hire for kill and can’t help but wonder if he still does it at this moment.
“Yeah, we’re making a trip to Georgia, so don’t get too settled,” he grates, downing the whiskey as he stands, the chair behind him scrapping against the floors.
“Yes, sir.” I stand with him.
The doors to the room open and all the men of the club stand there with smiles on their faces. Lip, Bobby, Saint, and a couple other hang-arounds.
“You made it, brother, you’re a Devil.” Shadow’s voice has me look back at him and he’s holding up the rocker, my patch putting me inside the club.
Holy shit!
“Know what that means, a fucking party!” Bobby cheers, slapping me on my back. Laughing, I take the rocker into my hand and shrug off my cut so it can be added.
“Welcome to the club, brother.” Shadow pulls me into a hug, the guys hooting and hollering. I want to be happy, this is what I wanted all along. To belong, to have a brotherhood of loyalty unlike the rodeo, but all I can think about is where is Delilah in this moment?
17
Delilah
Big Chief was patched in today, Mom just told me. The club naturally throws a big ass party for guys that just get patched in, and no women of the club’s families are allowed. Supposedly to keep drama down and good times high, so I’m assuming I’m not staying here tonight. Standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and chewing on my thumbnail, I think about how I can get around the rules.
“You know the rules, you gotta come with me or I can drop you off at Piper’s,” Mom offers, handing me a soda from the fridge to go with my pizza.
My shoulders sag, depression weighing on my chest as I do my best to show my mom how rundown I am.
“I just, I really want to rest, to curl up on my bed with my damn candle and sleep. Look, I promise I won’t come out and see their secret stupid party or whatever it is they do. Can I just stay?”
She must sense my defeat because her face falls when she looks at me, her mouth turning into a frown.
“You have been through a lot.” Her voice soft. “I hate that everything you wanted didn’t turn out the way you hoped, babe.” She shakes her head and I suddenly feel guilty for playing her.
“It’s not all bad, I’m home and safe.”
She plasters a smile on her face, and cups my cheek where the stitches are.
“If your dad finds out I let you stay, he will have my ass. Literally, he’ll whoop my ass.” Her eyes widen, and all I can think about is men spanking women must be a biker thing because Big Chief likes to spank too. But I can’t tell her that, I can’t tell anyone about my trip or what I’m feeling. Well, I could tell Piper but… no, she has the baby, she has enough going on.
“Promise I won’t leave the room.” I hold my hand up, and she hooks her pinky with mine. Childish, maybe. But we’ve been pinky promising each other since I was eight. It’s our thing.
Lying in bed the day has slipped into night and the club is definitely full-on partying.
“Midnight Rider” by the Allman Brothers plays on full blast in the common area of the club and the walls vibrate, an array of smells slip from under the door diluting my coconut candle, I can’t even smell it through the scent of weed and perfume and cologne.
Sitting up in my bed with a pillow to my chest I hear a woman laughs so loudly my eyes roll to my bedroom door. I picture a half-naked chick, blonde hair, with lip injections and tattoos all over her thighs sitting on Big Chief’s lap. The bitch probably doesn’t even know why being patched in is such a big deal. Fucking posers. I don’t even know how the men find girls like that attractive. More boobs than brains.
Rolling over onto my side, I shove the pillow over my head, trying to drown out the sounds and the idea of Big Chief with someone else.
“I won’t go out there! I won’t go out there!” I remind myself of the promise I gave my mother.
Something, or someone rather, slams against my door, making me startle. Tossing my pillow off my head, I sit up straight and stare at the door, waiting for it to happen again so I can ream someone’s ass, but whatever it was passed on.
Rubbing my temples, I try to not think about Big Chief and the ache in my chest. I need a plan of what to do with my life. A career, or college maybe?