Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Jamie looked down at her outfit - jeans and a purple and white plaid shirt, shrugged, and stood. "Someone has to keep an eye on you two looking like that," she offered. "Please tell me we are staying close," she pleaded, knowing that it wasn't completely uncommon for me to drag us forty-five minutes away to go to an 80's-themed club, or even an hour and change to get to the city for some bar hopping.
"I was thinking Chaz's tonight. Keep it simple."
So that was where we went.
And that was when it all started.
FOUR
Sugar
I had too fucking much on my mind to be distracted by thoughts of a hot, tatted, pierced, dyed, smart-ass chick who drove a hearse and worked in a library and went to gay raves to get her buddies laid.
But there I was, driving home from the salon with some dude from Hailstorm driving and Kennedy in the back seat to be dropped off into Pagan's care since she refused to stay stuck up at Hailstorm twenty-four-seven, only conceding into going when too many of the men would be out of town to handle business if something went down, and all I could think about was her.
When my mind should have been focused on keeping my eyes peeled for a tail or any possible threats, knowing things had been quiet for far too long for someone as batshit crazy as V. She was going to make a move. It wasn't a matter of if; it was a matter of when. And while everyone was on high alert with Summer and her kids, there was no telling if maybe she would work her way up the ranks until they were decimated and there was no one to protect them.
And, well, there was the matter of the text from a dead man.
Which, to be honest, was a bigger problem.
But that was a me problem.
That was a me and Virgin problem.
It didn't involve the club.
Which was why, though it went against everything in me since I was raised in MCs and knew that keeping trouble to yourself was a huge no-no, we had chosen not to share this.
If it were a prank, it would freak everyone out unnecessarily, put them even more on edge. They didn't need that. They needed to focus on V. And being able to have a life outside of that as well.
And if it wasn't a prank, well, fuck, I didn't know. I guess we would have to make an excuse... and find a way to handle it.
Which was why Virgin and I had a little day trip planned after I was off watchdog duty.
We were heading up to the city to ferret out an old buddy of ours, see if he had similar texts, or had heard anything that we hadn't been privy to, or had simply been deaf to since we were so out of earshot down in Jersey now.
"So, you and Peyton," Kennedy said after she seemed to hit her limit of tolerance to the silence in the car, likely having learned - as the rest of us had over the years of them being around all the time - that the guys and girls from Hailstorm were not a chatty bunch. In fact, it was like they were set to radio-silent at all times.
"There is no me and Peyton," I corrected quickly. Maybe too quickly.
"She's amazing."
"So I hear."
"No. Truly. I come across a lot of women in my business, but I don't think anyone has been as unique as she is."
"Uh-huh."
What was it with these Henchmen women, always trying to set the few single ones of us left up? Wasn't their girls club big enough as it was? But, I guess, the girls club was a bit more split in two these days than it used to be, the older members with their close bonds, the newest ones trying to forge ones of their own. Maybe she was just in the market for new friends, liked Peyton, and fancied the idea of the two of us shacking up.
Though why she would ever think I'd be a settling down kind of guy was completely beyond me.
That being said, people would have said the same thing about Pagan a few years back.
I guess you never really knew.
Lo was always making comments about me getting knocked on my ass by a woman.
So far though, I managed to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. Where I intended to keep them.
"For Christmas, she brought us in a sex toy basket," Kennedy went on, making my head turn slightly over my shoulder, not sure she was being serious. "Complete with straight and gay toys, so as not to exclude anyone. Her sister owns Phallus-opy. She temps there over the holiday season when things get crazy."
"Sex toys are a common Christmas present?" I asked, wondering why I had spent my adulthood giving female friends gift cards to fucking Sephora when what they really wanted was a good bullet vibrator.