Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
She was private as shit about her life. And, sure, mystery was kind of hot and all. But now that I was pretty sure I was into her in a I wanted more than to, well, get into her kind of way, I wanted to know more. I wanted her to let me in.
But I understood that it was going to take a while.
For fuck’s sake, the woman could barely accept a hug even after a traumatic incident.
She wasn’t someone who trusted easily or opened up.
So, for all I knew, she had the fucking mafia or Bratva or a crazy-ass ex-boyfriend on her ass who wished her ill.
Whoever it was, though, I wanted to find them out. And let them know what I thought about them trying to hurt her.
It wasn’t going to be a pleasant interaction. For them. I would enjoy the shit out of it.
“But, knowing you, you’re going to figure it out.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Did you ever think that maybe another miniature animal might make her tell you?” he teased on the walk back to the fence to climb back out.
He was joking.
But I wasn’t above finding something else to soften her up with.
Clearly, the pig had been a good choice.
I’d been worried for a minute there, what with her not immediately going all gooey-eyed when she looked at that cute fucking thing. But, clearly, she was just struggling with the financial aspect of it. And if she was allowed to have a pet at her place.
Luckily, I was quick on my feet and invented the fucking piggy subscription box thing.
I mean, it wasn’t a lie.
I would personally compile a piggy box for her every month.
But it was, you know, a bit of a stretching of the truth.
So the money aspect of another pet could easily be covered. Which only left the whole if she was allowed to have one issue in place.
So as much as I wanted to give her a mini goat set or mini cows, I figured it would be pushing it.
It was going to require a little thought.
“The fuck are you doing?” Seth hissed as we found Voss at the side of the building, filling up a bowl from the hose.
“He had no water. The fuck kind of asshole leaves a dog out here with no water?”
“You know, if you tell Andi about that, she’s going to have Niro, her old man, her mom, and who-the-fuck-knows who else up over here to cut open a hole in the fence and rescue him,” Seth said as he made his way back to the fence.
One look at Voss made me think that he wasn’t going to wait for Andi’s help.
“Oh, fuck, here we go,” I said when the flood lights suddenly flicked on, and someone was yelling from inside of the building.
I didn’t bother to wait for Seth to get off of my cut, just getting myself all sliced to shit as I hauled myself over the top. Voss, it seemed, did the same, both of us coming off of the fence looking like we’d been mauled.
“Don’t need another mark on my record,” I said, shrugging it off as I took my cut from Seth.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Seth asked as we all piled back into the SUV.
“Now, I figure out how to get her to tell me her story.”
“You know,” Seth said after a minute of contemplating. “Andi’s mom might have an answer for you,” he said, making my lips curl up.
Because Andi’s mom Rey was constantly rehabilitating and rescuing animals that desperately needed homes.
And, well, I knew a woman who needed something soft and furry in her life.
“Whose bike is that?” Voss said as we finally pulled back into the clubhouse a while later.
“I have no idea,” Seth said, brows furrowing.
It definitely wasn’t someone’s new bike, since it looked well-loved and dusty as fuck.
“New prospect?” Voss said, shrugging as he got out of the SUV.
“Fallon is here,” Seth said, seeming to give some weight to Voss’s suspicion as I yanked off my torn and bloody shirt before following them in.
“Legacy?” Voss asked as they stepped in before me.
No.
It couldn’t have been a legacy. From what I understood, the others weren’t old enough yet or interested enough, to join.
But there was definitely someone in the common area talking to Fallon who looked like a walking criminal record.
Tall, built, tattooed, bearded.
The usual shit.
Fallon’s gaze slid over toward us, his eyes moving over Voss’s torn shirt and my bloodied chest and stomach.
“Do I want to know?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Probably not,” I said, going to the bar to grab a bottle of vodka, pulling off the cap, and pouring some down my body, enjoying the burn more than I probably should.
“Barbed wire is a mother fucker,” the mystery biker said, giving me a knowing smirk.