Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Scorpion stood up and looked at me in shock. He would, I guess, since he knows me best. Claiming a woman has never been on my list of things to do. Not until Georgia, that is. “You claimed one?” he asks.
Hades barks out a laugh. Scorpion mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like he’s saying holy shit. That makes me laugh. Even Skeeter, who hasn’t said one word to me before, shakes his head.
I grin at them, lighting a cigarette and taking a draw. I need something to keep me from going back inside and fucking all of my frustrations out on Georgia’s sweet body. “Should I ask why my men look so shocked?”
Scorpion holds his hands up in surrender and steps forward, his leather vest creaking as he walks. Scorpion is built like a weapon—lean, dark-eyed, and dangerous. A scar runs from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and it deepens when he smiles. “Don’t look at me, Prez. I don’t give a damn what you do. Just never thought I’d see the day you claimed an old lady—especially after being here, for only two days.”
I clap Scorpion on his back, hard, taking his hand in mine in a quick exchange. It’s damn good having him here in Tennessee with me. He was from my old club and the fact he trusted me enough to follow me means the fucking world. “Well, she’s a hell of a woman.”
Scorpion snorts. “She must be. When do I get to meet her?”
“Soon,” I respond, taking another drag off my cigarette. “She’s a little gun-shy.”
That earned a few chuckles that don’t sit well with me. They sound pissed and annoyed. Which oddly enough, is starting to match my own mood—which was great when Georgia was with me.
Hades—tall, dark hair, with arms covered in flames and skull tattoos—leans against his bike. His grin was pure trouble. “Gun-shy, huh? Just a warning Prez. If she lives here, she’s probably putting a curse on your ass right now.”
The others laugh in agreement, making me feel like I’m missing the joke. “Explain,” I grumble.
Hades shrugs, still wearing his shit-eating grin, and clearly enjoying himself. “Everyone knows about the old woman and her granddaughter who live here. They’re bad news, man.”
I move to step closer to him, smoke curling from my mouth. “Explain more,” I order quietly, trying to keep control of my anger.
Hades must be smarter than I’m giving him credit for, because he starts to hesitate before opening his fucking mouth. Cowboy steps up, scratching the back of his neck. “What he means,” Cowboy begins carefully, “is folks say they’re witches or somethin’.”
“Why in the fuck would they say that?” I snap.
“Georgia—uh, the granddaughter—she told Bo Ripley that his barn was gonna burn down. Said she saw it in a dream or some psychic vision crap. Bo laughed his ass off for two weeks, teased her in town every damn day. Then, a month later, the damn barn burned to the ground. Arson investigator said it was a bad breaker. But Bo? He’s been swearin’ ever since that girl hexed him.”
My body goes tight. I’m starting to see why Georgia seems so timid.
Cowboy keeps going. “After that, the two of ’em—Georgia and her grandmother—don’t talk much to anyone. Folks still hire her for her paintin’ and the community center stuff, but… they do it out of fear, you know? Keep your enemies closer kind of deal.”
I flick my cigarette away, the ember flaring in the dirt, before I stomp it into the ground with the sole of my boot. My voice drops low and dangerous. “I guess I’ll be visiting this Bo Ripley later,” I announce. Their humor immediately vanishes. I’m guessing everyone could tell from my tone that I mean business. It’s a good call, because I do. I’m about to make sure this Bo Ripley gets my message so deeply that he regrets it when I leave him still breathing.
Scorpion whistles low. “Damn, you’re serious about her.”
I shoot him a look that leaves no room for question. “Dead serious.”
Before anyone could say more, flashing red and blue lights cut across the yard.
“Looks like the cops have made it,” Hades complains.
I turn my head, eyes narrowing as a sheriff’s cruiser pulls up. Dust swirls as its lights reflect off the chrome of our bikes. I watch as the driver steps out—tall, square-jawed, clean-cut, the kind of man who looked like he ironed his jeans. Jesus.
C walks up first, greeting the man with a nod. “Davis,” he says, shaking the other man’s hand, hitting a fucking nerve.
My attention sharpens at once. Davis. The same name Georgia had mentioned earlier. This wasn’t just some small-town cop. This was someone who knows my woman and she knows him—maybe too well. That shit isn’t going to fly any longer. I won’t let it. To make matters worse, the guy was good-looking in that shiny, safe kind of way—the kind of man a small-town girl like Georgia might want. I felt a dark satisfaction curl through me as I imagined carving his pretty face up. I wouldn’t kill him. Georgia would probably get pissed about that. No, my aim would be just to ruin his pretty boy face a little.