Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Kings of Anarchy MC. Exactly what I expected.
I’ve heard of them. People talk in a small town like Freedom Falls. When I first got into town and tried to settle in I was told they are more reliable than the local cops. If tonight is anything to go by that statement is fact. I start the engine and pull out of the lot. But halfway down the road, I realize something strange.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel afraid of all the shadows. I’m still worried about Clint finding me, but not the same way I was just moments ago inside the bar. Mostly, though, I find I can’t stop thinking about the man everyone calls Mellow.
TWO
MELLOW
I’m still pissed about the table. Not because it broke. But because I didn’t break the bastard’s jaw with it.
“Jesus Christ,” Stunt mutters as he steps over splintered wood and an upside-down chair. “You couldn’t just drag him outside like a domesticated animal?”
I ignore him and toss back the rest of my whiskey. The burn doesn’t do a damn thing for the heat still riding under my skin. There are some things in life that rattle my cage, men making women uncomfortable in the wrong way is one of them. Make a woman squirm in the heat of passion is the only acceptable time to cause discomfort, and make it worthwhile before you finish. To cause a woman any sense of pain, emotional, physical is simply unacceptable.
Across the room, Grit and Dice are hauling the drunk asshole toward the back exit while he groans and leaks blood onto the floor. Crystal, the owner of Black Rose Tavern, is behind the bar with both hands braced on the counter, glaring at me like I personally insulted her mother.
“You break one more table in my place, Mellow, and I’m adding your name to every damn tab until Christmas.”
I set the empty glass down. “Put it on my tab now then.”
“It’s not the point, Mellow.”
“I’m good for it, Crystal. Now drop it.” I give her a glare letting her know this time is not me talking shit and joking banter we usually share. She wants me to pay for a fucking table, whatever. But arguing with me tonight is not wise for anyone. A couple of brothers at the pool table laugh under their breath. Crystal flips them off without looking away from me.
Looney drops onto the stool beside mine and signals for another beer. “You got that look.”
I drag my gaze from the bar door long enough to look at him. “What look?”
“The one where you’re trying real hard not to go back out to the parking lot and make sure she made it home and then go find that fucker and put him in the ground personally to ensure he doesn’t bother another woman again.”
I snort, but don’t disagree. “Shut up.”
Looney grins. “Knew it.”
I should tell him to go to hell. Instead, I settle in and take another tap on the bar top for Crystal to bring me another whiskey on the rocks.
The whole thing happened fast. Too fast for me to think about what I was doing. One second I’m halfway through a drink and half-listening to Dice run his mouth about a shipment delayed out near Mobile, and the next I catch sight of a pretty little strawberry blonde going stiff at the bar while some wasted son of a bitch wraps his hand around her wrist like he’s got a right.
That was it. No thought. No debate. Just blood. That’s the problem with my temper. It doesn’t flicker and flare burning down a fuse before explosion. It detonates instantly.
Usually I can keep a handle on it. Typically. But there was something about the way she went still that got under my skin. Not fighting. Not yelling. Not even jerking away hard. Just frozen.
Like she’d been there before. Not from that man, another one. Someone has rattled her in the worst of ways. She had the stare. The kind of fear looks different than surprise. Different than annoyance. Different than a woman trying to avoid making a scene with some idiot too drunk to take a hint.
I know the difference. And I recognized it the second I saw her face.
Crystal drops another whiskey in front of me, then points the bottle neck in my direction. “This one ain’t free.”
“None of ‘em are.” I challenge back, our usual banter returning. That is Crystal, quick to resolution regardless of how pissed she gets.
She laughs. “Then drink faster so it hurts you more when you pay and I can celebrate.”
Looney laughs and takes a pull from his beer. “You gonna tell Chux?”
“Tell Chux what?” I ask knowing damn well I will tell him, as the club President, he needs to know anytime any of us are involved in an altercation even when it isn’t club business per say.