Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
But everyone under the DAMC umbrella got free services from any club business. Memberships at Shadow Valley Fitness were free for all of them. So was the gun range. Had an urge for something sweet? Simply stop in at Sophie’s Sweet Treats for a latte and cupcake. Need something stronger? The Iron Horse Roadhouse or the private club bar had them covered.
She didn’t have to worry about her insurance rate going up since the repairs for her sled would be done for free through Shadow Valley Body Works.
The DAMC was a close community. All of them benefitted in plenty of ways.
She went over to the area where she and her employees drew their designs and opened up her laptop. A quick search brought up photos of different types of hawks and she used those as a guide to sketch one by hand.
Ash came up behind her, placed both hands on the back of her chair, and leaned over to watch her work.
Of course, his searing heat, his familiar scent, and simply his close presence distracted her. Her racing heart caused her hands to tremble slightly. She dropped them in her lap, squeezed them together, and willed them to stop.
“Yeah,” he murmured near her ear as he studied one of the photos she had pulled up. “Like how its wings are extended like that. Like it’s chasin’ prey.”
Why did she feel like the nervous little rabbit the hawk was pursuing?
She could finally breathe normally again when he straightened and dared a glance over her shoulder when she heard the heavy thud of his boots heading away from her.
Her eyes slid over his broad back and the first tattoo he ever got from Crow.
His colors.
She had touched them up for him last year, so the lines were dark and distinct.
Disappointment flowed through her when he pulled on his T-shirt and cut.
She wished he thought of her as more than a club sister. But the hell if she was going to make the first move, only to be embarrassed if he shot her down.
You’re too young.
You’re like a sister to me.
You’re not my type.
Don’t want to disrespect your father.
Not only would she be disappointed to hear those excuses, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again after being rejected.
It was safer to simply spend time with him when she could.
And be satisfied with that.
Except she was just about to turn twenty-four and she’d never met another man she wanted as much as Ashton Dougherty.
If nothing changed, she might be doomed to a lifetime of being single.
As well as a virgin.
Chapter Five
Rage studied the patch carved into the center of the wood table. Four generations of Dirty Angels’ blood ran through his veins.
Four.
The club couldn’t end with their generation. Fuck that. His ancestors would come back to haunt him if that happened, so it fell on his shoulders to do something about it.
He lifted his head. “Been thinkin’ about this shit.”
Next to him, Zeke sucked on his teeth. “Thank fuck someone has.”
“Know we talked about pickin’ off those fuckin’ Souls one-by-one. Not sayin’ that ain’t the way to go, but think it’s better if we go after the main players. The motherfuckers controllin’ the purse strings.”
Tension crackled in the air around him. The same way it shot down his spine when he thought about this plan.
Across from him, Chill stated the obvious. “The Russos.”
Rage’s gaze sliced from the president to Zeke’s younger brother, the VP. “Yeah. They’re the reason the Souls wanna use our territory as a fuckin’ pathway to a fuckload of scratch. Eliminate the Mafia and the Souls ain’t gonna have a reason to come close to Shadow Valley.”
“So you fuckin’ hope,” Chaos muttered.
Wheels spoke up from the other end of the table. “Thinkin’ the Souls are gonna get pissed if we fuck with their windfall, though.”
“Could be,” Rage answered.
Cruz almost launched from his chair when he yelled, “Are you fucking crazy? How the fuck do we eliminate the goddamn Mafia?”
“And survive it,” Chill tacked on. “If we hit them, they ain’t gonna hesitate to hit us back. And let’s be real, their hits are gonna be so much fuckin’ worse than ours. Even if we somehow succeed, who’s to say, like the Souls takin’ over the Demons’ territory, some other Mafia family—or another branch of the Russos in this case—won’t take over Pittsburgh and just continue on with business as usual?”
Chill was right, but they couldn’t sit on their fucking hands and do nothing. Especially after the Russos took Zeke’s son, Ledger, and the Souls injured some of their women. The first one was done as a warning. The second was an actual attack.
“No guarantee that ain’t gonna happen, but nobody’s comin’ up with any fuckin’ ideas how to deal with it,” he answered. “And the fuck if we can let it go unchecked.”