Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
He just reached for me and let it happen. He didn’t make a big deal of it. Because, to him, it wasn’t. If anything, he liked that I was comfortable being expressive around him.
I’d been doing a lot of deconstructing of things I learned growing up in a toxic environment. I had a feeling there was still a lot of work to be done. But I knew that Colter was going to be there for me through it all.
Colter - 4 months
The clubhouse door flew open, making all of us turn.
It was church.
The girls and kids knew to stay away until we were done.
But it wasn’t the girls or the kids standing there.
It was a man I’d never seen before.
Face bloody.
Knuckles busted open.
The neck of a whiskey bottle in his hand.
A smile tugging at his lips.
“Home sweet home!” he declared.
I’d never seen us all draw weapons so quickly before.
Because… who the fuck was this guy?
And what the fuck was he doing here?
“Nice digs,” he said, looking around before focusing on the guns aimed in his direction. “Yeah, scary shit. How many channels does that TV get?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Slash asked, taking a threatening step toward him.
He didn’t seem to be armed.
But looks could be deceptive.
Though, unless he had a whole crew of buddies outside waiting to rush in and catch us off guard, he was insanely outnumbered even if he came in with bad intentions.
Seeming to think the exact same way, Saint knocked his brother on the chest, then the two of them moved toward the hallway, likely to exit the back and check the perimeter.
While the rest of us focused on the stranger.
“Me? I’m Hail.”
“Hail,” Slash repeated.
“Like a guy named Slash should talk,” Hail shot back, lips twitching.
He was tall and on the lean side with a round face, black hair, pale skin, and dark blue eyes. And there was something wild in those eyes, something that made me clock his injuries once again.
What had he been up to?
And why would he show up here afterward?
“You know me. Why don’t I know you?”
“That’s kinda my question too,” Hail said, walking over to the cat tree that Coach had built and leaning his face in toward the cat, pressing a random kiss to the top of his head. Even Cat looked confused.
“Well, if you know me,” Slash said, “you know I’m not known for my patience. Get to the fucking point. Who are you and why are you here?”
“Told you who I am. Hail. Hail Quinn.”
“Wait…” Rook said, head cocking to the side.
Suddenly, something was ringing a bell for me too. I just couldn’t place it.
Slash was quick, though.
“Hail Quinn. You were in for stealing a cop car.”
Of course, Slash knew him by his crimes. He studied the guys in the prison, trying to decide who he thought might be a good fit for the club upon release. That was how he found Judge, Rook, Coach, Saint, and me.
Hail mimed firing a gun at Slash as he continued moving around the clubhouse, completely unbothered by the guns still pointed in his direction.
The front door opened, bringing in Saint and Syn, who gave us a shrug.
There was no one else.
Just this guy.
Picking up a drawing one of the kids had left on the coffee table, nodding, then putting it back down.
“You weren’t supposed to be out for another year.”
“Good behavior,” he said.
“Good behavior?” Slash asked, glancing at the guy’s face and hands.
“Oh, this,” Hail said, checking out his knuckles. “Wasn’t the only one who got out today. Ran into this Nazi fuck at the gas station. Decided his face needed some rearranging.”
“Why’d you steal a cop car?” Rook asked.
“Hm? Oh, dunno. Childhood dream, I guess. Always wanted to fuck with the sirens. Good times. Until they blew the tires out on me.”
“Alright. Let’s try this again. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Well, see, I heard things inside,” Hail said, grabbing someone’s cold coffee off the table, sniffing it, then taking a sip. “About a local biker club that recruits from the pool of guys getting released. Gotta say, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get an invite.”
“Why the fuck would I invite you? You stole a cop car. You’re not some master criminal.”
It was then that Hail’s gaze cut to Slash, something devious in his eyes, almost as sinister as the smirk that toyed with his lips.
“That’s the hacker, right?” he asked, jerking his chin toward Rook. “Have him look into me. You guys got anything good to eat?” he asked, making his way into the kitchen, taking a sip of the stolen coffee, then his whiskey, as he went.
“Hey, Saint,” Slash called, eyeing the stranger as he opened the fridge and looked around. “Why don’t you, Syn, and Crow take our friend here into town? Get him some food. A couple drinks.”