Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Hammer takes his side while Des stands beside me.
“Muscle Man, when are you gonna learn?” Hammer asks while Coal drops his knee back and slams it into Scotty’s crotch.
“Ice your balls, ice your mind, and ice your motherfuckin’ fingers because you won’t ever fuckin’ touch her again unless she asks for it,” Coal growls before one last shove, releasing Scotty.
“Fuckin’ tease,” Scotty sneers, glaring at me as he hobbles away, holding his balls.
Not looking at Coal, I stammer out a thank you to both him and Hammer as I rush away in a panic.
Guilt.
Did I give off the wrong energy? Working out increases endorphins, which can be misread. Scotty is getting harder and harder to handle. It’s not my intention to mislead a single soul. I am who I am.
My heart is racing, and I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body. Suddenly, I feel the negative energy wash over me, like an invisible slime, and I want nothing more than to go wash it off in the shower.
I start to enter the women’s locker room when I hear Coal call after me.
“Pixie.”
Looking back over my shoulder, I answer, “Yes?”
He points in the direction that Scotty just walked off in. “If that asswipe gives you trouble again, let me know, understand?”
Unable to form words, I nod, and then quickly enter the women’s locker room. I don’t bother to shower there. I just grab my stuff out of my locker and hightail it out of the gym.
Rushing home, I lock my door the minute it shuts and race to the bathroom to jump in the shower. I can’t help feeling as though Scotty’s touch has corrupted my aura or something. All I want to do is wash it off then meditate to find my center again.
A small part of me can’t help wondering if the incident is my karmic punishment for digging into Coal’s past, which only makes me feel worse.
Chapter Nine
~Coal~
“Anyone seen Big Jim?” I ask the brothers around the club as I walk from one end to the other, looking for the big, red-haired bastard.
Everyone shakes their heads no, so I make my way back toward Ice’s office and the hallway with the private rooms our girls use.
Perhaps Ice has seen him, or maybe he is in one of those rooms with his ol’ lady Lisa. The couple have been together for as long as I have known them, yet they always act like a couple of horny teenagers.
Once I make it to the prez’s office, I knock twice on the doorframe to get his attention from where he is sitting behind his desk. “Have you seen Big Jim?”
Putting the paper down he was reading, Ice gives me a weird look. “The last time I saw BJ was yesterday when I asked him to stop by the Billy Bob’s Barbeque and ask that waitress Screech was chattin’ up with about what the gov ordered the last time he ate there. No one has seen him today? He should have fuckin’ reported in by now.”
My stomach drops. I don’t waste another second.
Whipping out my cell phone, I dial Big Jim’s number, hoping he will pick up.
Nothing.
Once his voicemail kicks on, I hang up and try his number again.
Nothing.
When that doesn’t work, I call Lisa.
Looking over at the schedule posted on the wall, I see her name written on today’s date for being on shift tonight. She should already be here, and I’m pretty sure she isn’t. Otherwise, one of the boys would have said something when I asked about Big Jim.
Turning my attention back to Ice, he reads the alarm in my eyes and stands up from his chair.
“They’re not answering?” he asks me worriedly.
I shake my head as I try Lisa’s number for a second time. However, it doesn’t seem as if Ice is going to wait to see if that works as he takes off for the door with his motorcycle keys in his hand, muttering, “This isn’t right. Something’s wrong.”
Hanging up, I follow him down the hallway, catching Hammer’s eye before we reach the front door and motioning for him to come with us. Ice is already on his bike and waiting when we make it outside.
Hammer and I hop up on our motorcycles, and then the three of us take off like we are running from the hounds of hell. Little do we know, we are about to step into a hell of our own.
Pulling up at Big Jim’s small house, we take notice that no lights are on, yet his bike and Lisa’s car are both parked in the driveway. This is definitely not a good sign. In all the years Big Jim has been with the Regulators, he has never been late, never missed a call without returning it, and Lisa has been our best bartender since we opened.