Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
"Different how?" Honey's voice softened slightly as she leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her knees. She took one of my hands on both of hers as she watched my face with careful concentration. The woman was studying me so she caught everything she could glean from my nonverbal expressions.
I shrugged, struggling to put it into words. "Not like the usual guys. Not trying too hard or acting like he had something to prove. Just... there. Confident but not too cocky." I paused, remembering. "We played pool. Had some drinks. Then we went back to his place."
"And?" Honey prompted when I fell silent.
"And we fucked." I tried to sound casual, like it hadn't rearranged something inside me. "It was good. Really good." My cheeks heated despite my attempt at nonchalance.
Honey's eyebrows rose. "Good enough to have you walking around in a daze two days later?"
"Yeah." I stood again, unable to sit still. "But that's not the point. The next morning, I was getting ready to leave, and I accidentally kicked over his backpack." The words rushed out now. "Some stuff spilled out, and when I was putting it back, I saw something in the front pocket."
Honey went very still. "What did you see?"
"A patch." I swallowed hard, my voice soft. Guilty. "A Copperheads patch."
"Fuck." The word exploded from Honey. She rose to her feet, grabbing my shoulders, her fingers digging in. "Are you fucking kidding me? A Copperhead?” She hissed the words in an angry whisper. “Do you have any idea what Jack would do if he found out one of them approached you? What Ghost would do?" Her face had drained of all color. "Hell, those guys tried to kill me not that long ago."
I pulled away from her grip. "I know, I know. But he wasn't wearing colors at the Valentine's Ball. And the patch was just loose in his bag, not sewn onto anything."
"Oh, well that makes it all better," Honey snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Jesus Christ, Wren. Those guys aren't just another MC. They're fucking animals. They deal in shit that Bound in Blood would never touch. Human trafficking, underage girls—"
"I know what they do," I cut her off, not wanting to hear it. I didn’t point out to her I’d been in this club far longer than she had but that wasn’t fair. Honey was only worried about me. For more than one reason. Bound in Blood would never hurt me, but I had to tread carefully unless I wanted Rocky dead. No one here would pull any punches for him.
The Copperheads' reputation was well-known among the clubs. They operated on the fringes, taking any job that paid, no matter how depraved. They had no code, no honor.
"Did he press you for information? Even hint that he wanted you to tell him something you shouldn’t?" Honey fired the questions at me. She wasn’t angry. Honey was protective of the people she loved. Sometimes that meant bulldozing through a situation, but she always did it with the best of intentions.
"No! Nothing like that. We barely talked about the club at all." I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated. "He seemed genuinely interested in me. In my bike, my work on it. It wasn't like he was pumping me for information."
Honey paced the small living room, her hands clasped behind her head. "Do you even hear yourself? That's exactly how they operate. They find a way in, something personal, something that feels real."
"It was just sex," I lied, my voice cracking slightly. "Besides, I didn't find the patch until the next morning as I was leaving."
"Bullshit it was just sex." Honey stopped pacing and looked me dead in the eyes. "I know that look. You're still thinking about him."
My defenses crumbled. I collapsed onto the couch again, the fight draining out of me. "I can't stop," I admitted, the confession like broken glass in my throat. "There was something about him... he's different. From anyone I've ever met." I looked up at her, hating the vulnerability I felt. "I know how fucked up that sounds. Trust me, I've been telling myself the same thing for two straight fucking days."
Honey sat beside me, her concern obvious in her expression. "You know this can't go anywhere, right? Even if he's not trying to use you to get to the club - which is a big fucking if — there's no universe where this ends well. Bound in Blood and Copperheads are like oil and water. Except the water wants to set the oil on fire."
I nodded, staring at my hands. "I know. I'm not stupid."
"Never said you were. But even smart people do dumb shit when they're thinking with parts other than their brain." She nudged my shoulder with hers. "Believe me, I know. I fell for Bloody Jack fucking Mason."