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)
“My schedule was wiped out this morning. I figured whoever did that rescheduled my clients.”
“If they did, they forgot to tell me: the goddamn sergeant at arms of this goddamn club who’s goddamn responsible for all you goddamn women!”
Her head jerked back and her brown eyes went wide. “I—”
With his eyes closed, he pulled in a long breath through flared nostrils.
Even though he couldn’t see her, he could feel her presence when she went toe-to-toe with him.
“They were just trying to do something nice for me, Ash. We had a great day. Please don’t ruin it.”
The hand she placed on his gut had its typical effect: instantly extinguishing the fire raging inside him.
Wheels joked that the women were witches, but Rage swore Lyric had some kind of magical touch when it came to him.
She’d always had it.
Wheels knew the reason why, of course.
Magic.
Chapter Eight
Relaxed. Lazy. Content.
A hot stone massage. A pedicure. A manicure. A facial. Warm, skilled hands and hot towels. Bottomless mimosas.
She’d had all of them before but not all on the same day.
Complete euphoria was the only way Lyric could explain her state of being before walking into the clubhouse.
Now that bliss was ruined.
She stared up at Rage and caught a flurry of emotions crossing his face before he was able to rein it in.
Of course she felt guilty. If it hadn’t been her birthday, none of the men would’ve been in a panic. If her club sisters hadn’t wanted her to be spoiled at a spa on her twenty-fourth birthday, the men wouldn’t be so pissed off right now.
Even so, Rage had been worried that someone had really kidnapped her.
She understood why, especially after what happened to Kyra and Ledger. Especially with the looming threat of the Twisted Souls and the Russos.
When her club sisters had “kidnapped” her, she hadn’t had her cell phone on her, so it must’ve been left back at the shop. But even if she’d had it, Lexi confiscated everyone else’s phones so they could all unplug and enjoy a relaxing time at the spa.
Big mistake.
While most of her club sisters hated being considered “property” of the Dirty Angels, whether they liked it or not, it was fact.
Her mother had been considered club property, too, long before becoming her father’s ol’ lady. All due to Lyric’s late great-grandparents. Grizz and Mama Bear had been a cornerstone of the DAMC since its inception back in the early 70s.
Unlike some of her “sisters,” Lyric did not hate being considered club property since it was a well-known part of the MC lifestyle. If she didn’t want to be a part of the club, she wouldn’t have followed in her father’s footsteps of becoming an ink slinger and taking over the club-owned business.
Deep down in her bones, she knew she was living her life the way it was meant to be.
The DAMC was her world. The people in it, her family. And it was a huge family. No, it wasn’t perfect, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
However, belonging to that family came with a sense of both safety and danger.
And the dangerous man towering above her was the man responsible for their safety. She couldn’t be upset with him for being pissed.
“I’m sorry you thought something happened to me. To all of us. They were only trying to do something nice by surprising me.”
He grunted. “There’s nice and then there’s fuckin’ stupid.”
“I agree that it should’ve been more well thought out. It seemed to be planned last minute. But…they said my father knew. So did my employees.” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “No wonder my staff didn’t contact Crow.”
“Carl must have fuckin’ brain damage, then, cause he was goddamn clueless when I asked where you were.”
“Well…” She sighed. Carl was a great tattoo artist but he wasn’t the brightest. “Why didn’t you contact my parents?” That would’ve avoided this whole mess.
His jaw shifted. “Didn’t want the OGs involved.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause…” His lips flattened out and shook his tattooed head. “Don’t matter. You’re safe now. That’s all that fuckin ‘matters.”
“I can’t speak for any of the other women, but I’m sorry you were worried.”
“Pretty fuckin’ sure some of them don’t give a fuck. Prolly think it’s funny.”
“You know how they are.” They liked to serve the men shit sandwiches whenever possible. That was because the men acted like they knew everything and thought they were always right.
Their level of cockiness was always high and that annoyed the women.
“Didn’t know where you were, baby. Didn’t even know where to fuckin’ look cause we didn’t know who took you. Didn’t know if you were being tortured…” He pulled in a breath, held it for a few seconds before releasing in a rush. “Or worse.”
“Like what happened to my mother,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his head for a moment. When he lifted it again, he whispered fiercely, “Don’t ever want you to be hurt.”