Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Fuck you, woman. How the fuck d’ya get a holda Diesel’s cage?”
Vi pressed an index finger against her lips and quickly glanced around like she was making sure the man her mother nicknamed “The Beast” wasn’t secretly lurking. “Shhh. He doesn’t know.”
A laugh burst from him. “Fuck, cuz. Only you’d get away with that shit. The rest of us would be tossed into a deep, cold-as-fuck quarry somewhere, never to be found again.”
“It had so much damn dust on it, I had to run it through the car wash so I could see out of the windshield. Since he rarely drives it anymore, he should just give it to me.”
“Yeah, sure. He’s gonna just give you the prized possession he’s had for decades and is probably worth a fuckload of scratch.”
Vi slapped a hand to her chest. “I’m his prized possession he’s had for decades. The first and favorite daughter.”
“Funny that you think you’re so damn special.” He settled into the bucket seat and side-eyed Vi. “You bring any smoke with you?”
He could see dark eyebrows rise above her sunglasses. “You mean on prison property, dumbass?”
“Guess you didn’t want to risk it. Pussy.”
She shot him a grin. “I definitely have one of those and I will not be flashing it at you or the guards.” She jerked her chin toward his side of the car. “Check the glovebox. Figured you’d need some after your last eight months of vacation.”
“You’re my favorite cousin, know that?”
She punched his upper arm. Hard enough to hurt since she was no weakling. But then, she had to be tough as nails to do what she did. “Of course I do. But now you owe me.”
He opened the glovebox and pulled out a metal cigarette container. He flipped open the lid and was relieved to see it held six hand-rolled joints instead of cigarettes. The latter was easy to get in prison. Pot? Not so much. He tucked one between his lips before slipping the tin into the pocket of his cut. “Lighter?”
She tossed him one that had been sitting on the dashboard. “Damn, you’re needy.”
“Been inside for eight months. Gonna need a helluva lot more than pot.”
“The rest isn’t my problem. The sweet butts know you’re coming home. I’m sure one of them will be load-free when you get there.”
“Their cunts better be load-free. They know the rules.” Curving one hand around the joint, he flicked the Bic with the other and lit it, then hurried to roll down the window and blow out the smoke. Diesel might be old, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still pound people into the ground with his sledgehammer-like fists.
Even at his ripe old age of…whatever it was…he was still a beast.
“Can we get the fuck outta here?”
She shifted the GTO into gear and took off. The roar of the muscle car’s big block engine vibrated through his chest. The only thing that sounded better was his Harley or a woman screaming when he made her come.
Yeah, he needed to get the fuck home so he could hear both of those again.
Fisting it was the biggest drawback to spending time in a concrete box. Jacking off wasn’t the same as burying himself inside some hot, slick pussy with big tits.
Zeke twisted his head to stare at Vi’s profile as she drove. “They givin’ me a welcome home party?”
“If they had a party for you every time you got sprung, the club would be bankrupt. The only party you might get is a blanket party from your father for fucking up again.”
“He ain’t doin’ shit.”
Zeke was Zak’s number one son.
For fucking up.
Unlike his younger brother Zane, their parents’ “golden” boy.
“He’s been fillin’ in for you while you were away.”
“So, my spot’s safe.” Thank fuck.
“Barely. Some wanted to take it to a vote.” She glanced over at him as she drove toward Shadow Valley. “He reluctantly convinced them to let you keep that patch. For now, anyway. But got to say, he wasn’t happy about it. He promised the members that this was your last time inside. If not, don’t be surprised if they strip that patch from you.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, taking another long draw on the hand-rolled, holding the smoke in his lungs as long as possible before shooting it out the open window.
“Well, what do you expect, idiot? Who wants a damn fuck-up as a leader?”
Zeke ground his teeth before taking another hit. He wasn’t mellowing out fast enough. Especially with this topic of conversation.
He wasn’t surprised that this last bid inside ruffled some feathers, but he was surprised that his father fought for him.
“Look, cuz, I love you, but you need to get your crooked ass straight. You need to figure out how to ‘take care of business’ without getting caught.”
Zeke sucked on his teeth. He hated to admit she was right. He needed to stop fucking up. If not for himself, then for the club.