Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“Keep telling yourself that, man,” Mav said, slapping his shoulder. “Gentlemen, our work here is done. Let’s fucking get the hell outta this shithole. Smells like musty clothes.” He leaned to see around Saint. “Might wanna check some of those washers for mold, buddy,” he called to the attendant.
Zach rolled his eyes as he rested Louie on his shoulder and strode toward Maverick. “You’re such a fucking troublemaker.”
Saint followed without another glance at the guy. Just as Mav reached the door, the guy called out. “And say hi to Copper’s daughter for me. I enjoyed our time the other day.”
Saint froze.
The world narrowed to a single point—that smug fucker’s face. Heat flooded his chest, spreading outward until his skin felt too tight to contain the violence churning beneath it. His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles ached.
Zach whipped around and grabbed him by the sleeve before he had a chance to whirl on this piece of shit and snuff the life out of him.
“Don’t,” Zach muttered.
Saint couldn’t hear him.
Beth’s face flashed in his mind.
“I said, don’t.” Zach hauled him outside.
The fucking bell chimed gleefully overhead.
“He’s fucking with you, and you know it. Beth didn’t go looking for him, and he didn’t do anything more than grab her arm.”
Yeah, because some random car drove by and interrupted whatever the fuck he had planned.
Saint shook off Zach’s hold and stormed across the parking lot toward his bike. This fucker signed his death warrant the second Beth’s name fell from his lips. Saint didn’t care what it cost him. His patch, his standing, his fucking life. Anyone who threatened her would bleed.
“Fill me in,” Copper said as soon as they approached.
Zach did, thankfully, because Saint was seething too hard to recount it without losing his shit. Copper’s frown deepened as he processed Zach’s tale.
“I want to set up a meet with whoever is at the top of their food chain,” Zach said. “This guy wasn’t low-level, but he doesn’t have any decision-making power. So…”
“He threatened Beth.”
Copper’s attention whipped to Saint. “What?”
He was so tense he could have snapped in two. “He was the fucker who stopped Beth on the road the other day. Demo.”
Copper straightened to his full height. “And he’s still breathing?”
“All right, hold the fuck on.” Zach put his hands on Copper’s chest, keeping him from advancing. “This is not the place. I saw Garner’s car parked ten seconds up the road when we came in. Last thing we need is that particular cop showing up here.”
Garner was new to the police force with a chip on his shoulder and a something-to-prove attitude. He hated the MC and salivated over the thought of locking any of them away in jail.
“Let’s get out of here and talk somewhere else.”
“Fine.” Copper rolled his shoulders. “I wanna grab Beth first. She’s at lunch with Lindsey.”
That got Zach’s attention. “Yeah, let’s pick ’em up and escort them to the clubhouse.”
“Mav, I know you gotta get to work. Saint, if you’re not busy this afternoon, I want you with us.”
He nodded, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. “Whatever you need, Prez.”
Plus, even though he knew Beth was safe, now that her name had been thrown into the mix, his agitation wouldn’t settle until he saw her with his own two eyes. Until he could put his hands on her and feel for himself that she was whole and unharmed.
And maybe that need should have scared him.
How quickly she’d become essential.
But all he felt was the hollow ache of wanting what he couldn’t have.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“WHAT ARE YOU doing right now?” Lindsey asked before Beth had a chance to answer her phone with a hello.
“Uh, trying to decide if I want to eat leftover lasagna or an entire tub of fudge brownie ice cream.”
And trying not to think of a certain sexy biker I’m not allowed to touch, again.
“Well, shit, that sounds dark. It’s a good thing I called. Come meet me for lunch.”
Beth shut the freezer. “At the diner?”
“Nope. Someone is serving me lunch today. Meet me at Laurel and Spoon? I’m about five minutes out.”
Beth grinned. This was precisely what she needed. Get out of the house, hang with her girlfriend, eat some yummy food, and not think about Saint. “That sounds amazing. I’m leaving now.”
“Yay! See you soon.”
Beth shoved her feet into her ballet flats, grabbed her purse, and dashed out the door. Ten minutes later, she walked into the moderately crowded restaurant.
“Hi! Welcome to Laurel and Spoon. Table for one?”
She quickly glanced into the dining room to see Lindsey waving at her. “No, thank you. I see my friend I’m meeting.”
“Perfect, go right on in,” the perky, young hostess said with a wide grin.
“Thank you.” Beth wove her way through the busy dining room toward her friend. The ambience could only be described as southern charm with white-washed brick walls, reclaimed wood tables, and soft, natural lighting. Drinks came in mason jars, and the cloth napkins looked like they’d been embroidered by a southern grandma. About halfway to the table, she slowed her gait. Someone else sat with Lindsey. Someone with dark curly hair, Beth would recognize anywhere.