Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Noble isn’t really a thing where I come from,” Preppy laughed. “You don’t have to have a noble profession, Dre. You just have to be happy. Shit, you don’t have to have a profession at all. But if you’re really great at all this. And you should do more than furniture. Fuck, do a whole house. When you’re done fixing it up do the design of the inside, furniture and all. I’m sure people would snap that up real quick and there’s no shortage of houses that need fixin’ round town after the real estate market crashed.”
“That’s a great idea in theory, Preppy. But houses are a lot more expensive than furniture,” I pointed out. “And you already managed to buy this one without me knowing.”
Preppy tipped my chin up so our eyes met. “You leave that up to me, okay? Let me take care of you,” he said with sincerity in his sparkling amber eyes.
I grinned like a schoolgirl. My stomach flipped. “Okay,” I whispered, because there was no arguing with Preppy. There never was. Even if his side of the argument bordered on the ridiculous, he would still win.
Every. Single. Time.
Even with a possible threat looming over our heads, I was still thinking how lucky I was up until the gate on the side of the yard squeaked open. Preppy and I stood and walked over to stand in the way of where the kids were sitting in a circle playing with ladybugs in the grass. The three of them were completely unaware of the bloodied man being carried by his shoulders into the yard by two of Bear’s bikers. His one eye swollen shut, his cheek split open, his hair coated in sticky red. His clothes tattered and stained. The bikers set him down on his knees on the grass.
Preppy was the first to recognize him. He took a step forward.
“Kevin?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Preppy
“What the fuck happened?” I asked, glancing between Wolf and Rev. “You two?”
Wolf held up his hands defensively. “Not us, brother. The kid came limping up the driveway bleeding and beat to shit. Someone got him good, but it wasn’t us.”
“I’m fiiiiiine,” Kevin moaned, dropping his elbows onto the grass almost like he was fighting the need to lie down.
“Yeah, you look it,” I said, rolling my eyes. Stubborn son-of-a-bitch.
Behind me I heard Dre shuffling the kids inside the house.
“You want us to carry him in?” Rev asked, resting his hands on his belt.
“We’re good here,” I said. “Thanks.” The bikers left the yard to go back to their posts at the front of the house.
“Anything broken?” I asked, squatting down next to Kevin.
“Just my spirit, my pride,” he groaned. I grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him up into a sitting position. He winced and hissed through his teeth. “And maybe my collarbone.”
“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” I started. “The bad news is that there ain’t shit you can do about a broken collarbone. I know, because I broke mine twice and had mine broken twice more.” I paused. “Do you want to hear the good news?”
“Suuuuuuure,” Kevin sang, looking up at me through his one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
“The good news is that you CAN do something about your broken spirit and pride.”
I lit two cigarettes and passed one to Kevin. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do I do that?”
I leaned in close. “You can start by telling me who the fuck did this to you.”
Kevin’s face reddened with embarrassment as he told me the story of how he’d been robbed by a trio of douchebags over The Causeway he’d met up with thinking they wanted to buy weed. The guys were having a ‘boy’s weekend.’ Apparently, this ‘boy’s weekend’ included jacking my little brother of his stash, his bike, then beating the shit out of him for funsies.
Kevin would be sore as shit for the next few days, but he’d survive.
Too bad I couldn’t say the same for the douchebags.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Kevin groaned as I helped him stand. “I think so.”
“Good, then let’s go,” I said.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s time for another lesson,” I said. “Except this time you’ll be the one teaching it.”
“What kind of lesson?”
“The most important one.” I was already unbuttoning the cuffs of my sleeves, rolling them up above my elbows. I pulled my gun from my pants and shoved it into Kevin’s surprised hands. I clapped him on the shoulder. “You don’t fuck with Samuel Clearwater.”
****
We were on the beach watching the three bitches who jacked Kevin through an opening in the tall grass. It was dark, almost midnight, but the lights from the nearby hotel gave off just enough light to properly see our targets who were gathered around a small fire pit, drinking beers and laughing amongst themselves.
They wouldn’t be laughing long.