Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
"He's serious? He wants me to clean shop floors?" West asked.
"Maybe you can call up Finn for some ideas on cleaners," Sugar suggested.
"Who is Finn?" West asked, lost.
"He's got a lot to learn," Sugar told me as I moved into step beside him.
"Mmhmm," I agreed, both of us enjoying this way more than we should have seeing as Sug and I were in West's shoes not that long ago, having to figure out all the intricate ins and outs of the complicated Navesink Bank criminal underbelly.
"So you gonna see her again?"
"Told her I would."
"Is that a yes?" he demanded to know, not letting me evade.
"It's a yes," I declared, going into my room before he could ask me anything else.
Once some of the guys cleared out, I was given some slack, everyone speculating more on what was going on with Third Street instead of about my fucking feet... or what was going on with me and Freddie.
I texted her, though.
Another first.
Just casually asking how things went with her brother.
She hadn't answered, and I figured it was because she was likely at work.
"Stop checking your fucking phone," Sugar growled at me as I came back in from a casual stroll, my third of the night. Sugar and Reign had been out at least as many times as well.
Nothing.
But then again, it wasn't like Roan saw it every night either. Just once. Maybe it had been a fluke, some newbie who didn't know the rules. Or maybe we just needed to wait it out a couple more nights.
"Do I give you shit about how much Peyton texts you?" I shot back.
"She finally answer? What? Think I didn't know?" he asked, smirking. "Had that sad puppy look all fucking day until, what, she got outta work and answered you, right?" He was right, damn him. And I had about my fill of ribbing for the day.
"Lay off."
"She coming over tonight?" he asked, ignoring me. "Peyton wants to meet her," he added.
To that, I chuckled, rubbing the side of my face. "I don't know if she is quite ready for Peyton yet," I told him.
"She's not that crazy."
"She drives a hearse."
"So?"
"She likes snuff books."
"They're not that bad," he defended her even though I had seen him trying to read one once. And his hardened criminal ass looked a little green.
"And don't think that alien cock story didn't get around to me too," I added, making him smile as he hung his head, knowing he was defeated.
"I don't want the girls to get their hooks into her until I know where things are heading myself," I admitted.
"That's fair enough," he agreed. "But you got about a week before they all get on your ass. So decide shit fast."
A week.
I figured that would work. If we spent time together and didn't get sick of each other, then, yeah, it was fair to say it was heading somewhere. I wasn't talking hearts and rings and shit. But maybe somewhere serious enough that she might be around the club some more. Which would warrant her getting to know the girls club.
My phone buzzed in my hand, something it took her half an hour to get up the nerve to text.
Do you want to come over?
And fuck yes, I did.
TEN
Freddie
The next week was a blur.
But in a good way, not that 'I am too busy and can't even enjoy a moment of my day' kind of blur.
I went from adept enough at handling the often overwhelming input of orders at work to an old hand at it, the pride something pure and unmistakable.
Abby praised me - in her characteristic, offhand sort of way - and then had teased me endlessly about blushing in response to it.
Then I would get home, shower, spend a little time with Thaddeus.
Then Ty would be at my door.
I wasn't sure what I had been expecting after the first night. I guess a part of me had actually figured I would wake up alone.
Not to the sound of voices in the living room.
Thad.
Colson.
Ty.
Then, I figured, maybe all the family squabbling might also be a turn off for him, might send him running. Especially since it wasn't something he was used to. I fought with my brothers practically since the cradle. It was as common as a casual conversation for us. But Ty had never really had a chance for a traditional family. And his arguments with biker brothers likely led to blows, not heartfelt conversations like most of my family fights ended.
Case and point, me and Colson after Ty left.
Thad had handed me a coffee, then walked us both over to the dining table, forcing us each down into seats across from each other, then declared, "Sort your fucking shit out. I need to go do a full-body shave and lotion."
With that mental image, he left us alone, full of raw feelings, uncertainty, offense, and more than a pinch of anger on both our sides.