Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
My gaze darted to King, knowing he would read exactly what was written all over my face. The club prez’s eyes met mine, recognition and amusement flashing there for a second before he let out a laugh that startled everyone around him. I knew King understood enough to order a vest without needing anything else from me.
King shook his head slightly, laughter still in his voice as he murmured, “I’ll take care of it.”
Beside him, Flint gave a resigned sigh and muttered, “And I’ll order more tests.”
My jaw clenched in irritation, but I jerked my chin at them in silent acknowledgment. When I swung my gaze back to the woman, she was watching me with wide, curious eyes, her lips slightly parted as though she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or yell at me.
“We’ll talk later,” I promised.
I needed to get the hell out of there before I did something stupid, like haul her against me and claim her mouth right there in front of everyone in the damn clubhouse.
Before she could say anything else to derail my control, I turned and stalked away from the gathering. My pulse was still pounding fiercely as I left the clubhouse, needing distance from the woman who’d just flipped my world upside down.
When I left the compound, my boots crunched heavily on the gravel path to where I’d parked my hog. The ride into town should’ve cleared my head. The steady vibration of my bike and the familiar rhythm of the road were usually enough to quiet whatever noise was rattling around up there. It didn’t do a damn thing tonight, though.
Every time I blinked, I saw her. The way her eyes lit up. The curve of her mouth when she smiled. The feel of her body when she’d bumped into me—soft, warm, and real.
Mine.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I pulled into the underground garage of my building.
I killed the engine and sat there for a second, my hands still wrapped around the grips, and my jaw tight as I stared straight ahead. I’d walked away from her for a reason. The middle of the clubhouse lounge, with old ladies and my brothers watching, wasn’t the place to grab her and take what my instincts were already claiming.
Didn’t mean I liked it.
Pushing the thoughts aside, I swung off the bike and headed upstairs. My condo was exactly how I liked it—clean, controlled, and everything in its place. Dark wood floors, low lighting, nothing unnecessary. A space that didn’t demand anything from me when I walked through the door. But tonight, it felt too damn quiet.
I stripped down, tossed my clothes in the hamper, and dragged a hand over the back of my neck as I moved through the routine of getting ready for bed. Shower. Brush teeth. Lights off. Same shit, different night.
Except my head wouldn’t shut the fuck up.
I grabbed my laptop from the kitchen counter instead of heading straight to bed and dropped onto the couch, leaning forward with my forearms braced on my thighs as the screen lit up. It didn’t take much to get what I needed. Between what I already knew and what was stored in our systems, it was easy enough to find her name, where she worked, and where she lived.
Clara Winslet. The name settled into my chest like it had always belonged there.
I leaned back slowly, my eyes scanning the basic information and committing it all to memory without even trying. Winslet Orchard and Farm. Family business. Small apartment above the store. Everything about her life painted a picture that didn’t fit anywhere near my world—and didn’t change a damn thing about what I felt when I looked at her.
If anything, it made it worse.
I closed the laptop and finally headed to my bedroom, dropping onto the mattress and staring up at the ceiling. The silence pressed in around me, and for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like peace.
It felt like something was missing.
I lasted maybe five minutes before I swore under my breath and shoved off the bed, grabbing the laptop again as I went back out to the living room. If I couldn’t shut my brain off, I might as well make it useful and get some work done.
The Hounds had their hands in more shit than most people realized, some of it clean and some of it sitting in that gray space where the law didn’t quite reach or didn’t want to look too closely. We didn’t operate by anyone else’s rules unless it suited us. Our code came first, always had. When something needed to be handled, and the system couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do it, we stepped in. Lines got crossed. Problems got solved.
Sometimes the people in charge looked the other way. Other times, they quietly appreciated the outcome. Didn’t hurt that money flowed where it needed to, smoothing things out without anyone having to say it out loud. We didn’t buy politicians, didn’t play those games, but we had allies—people who understood that what we did filled the gaps the law couldn’t cover.