Biker Schmiker (Turf Wars #1) Read Online Bella Jewel

Categories Genre: Biker, Funny, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Turf Wars Series by Bella Jewel
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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He nods and goes back to his van to get whatever the hell he needs out. I make up a sign, explaining that the café is close due to an emergency and then I look over at the garage, that is full of cars and motorbikes, ready for a full day’s work.

He’s not going to get away with this.

No.

He’s going to regret it.

I’ll make sure of it.

5

I SKID INTO THE DRIVEWAY leading up to Riggs’ garage, a garage that is only next door but I drove around the block before rolling in. With the help of Dom, I made sure I knew exactly what I was talking about when I came in here today. I’ll make the mother of all scenes, I’ll make sure it spreads far and wide that Riggs is doing dirty work in here, and nobody should come to his garage.

If he wants to have my business shut down, I’ll do the same kind of damage to his.

The lot is full, there are people waiting for their cars, enough that the scene I’m about to make won’t go unnoticed. They’ll tell their friends and the word will spread. Gossip in a town like this is an evil thing, and it’s something that I know for a fact will travel by the time I’ve even left the parking lot.

I squeal up to the entrance of an empty parking bay and slam my brakes on before getting out of the car and bellowing at the top of my lungs. “I want to speak to the manager! Immediately!”

All the heads of the people waiting turn toward me.

Hugh and Adan come out of the garage, covered in grease and oil, and they look at me with confused expressions. Hugh is the one to speak. “What are you doin’ here, Evelina? Can we help you with something?”

“You can help me alright,” I shout. “My car, the one you all fixed here, was flagged yesterday for having stolen parts. Stolen parts! I cannot believe you’d fix people’s cars with parts that don’t belong to you, how dare you. I could have been fined! Fined! What sort of business are you running here? I’m a woman, a single woman, I gave you my money and this is what you give me in return? How dare you.”

The two of them look confused.

Riggs walks out, clearly hearing the commotion, and when he sees me his eyes flash with rage. He storms over and stops in front of me, grabbing my arm. “What the fuck are you doin’?”

“Do not touch me! How dare you manhandle me,” I scream, jerking my arm out of his. “Is this how you treat your customers?”

His eyes flare and he leans in closer, hissing in my ear, “You fuckin’ stop, or so help me god ...”

“Are you threatening me?” I gasp, stepping back. “A customer you’ve done wrong by, and you’re threatening me ...”

His eyes widen, almost in shock. I press my hands over my face and begin sobbing. I learned when I was just a child how to sob on cue. You could say I have quite the flair for dramatics. I was born this way. I can’t help it.

A woman who is waiting for her car comes over and puts her arm around me, and I continue to sob and ramble about the poor service and how unfair it is being a single mother and trusting someone else to do the job right. She calms me down and then glares angrily at Riggs who is staring at me in utter shock. He actually looks surprised that I could pull this off so well.

He has no idea how well I did in drama at school.

“I demand a full refund,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I can’t believe you’d use stolen car parts on my car. Who does that?”

“Can I speak to you, alone, in the office,” Riggs says, voice tight.

“Are you ashamed of what you’ve done?” the old lady asks.

“I’d like to know, too,” a man growls from the seat outside the front doors.

“I’m not ashamed of anything, there has clearly been a misunderstanding,” Riggs says through gritted teeth. “I don’t use stolen parts and I’ll show you, if you’d like to see them in packages, from the company we purchased them from. Perhaps this was something put on by someone else, and the blame is being directed at me.”

“If that’s the case,” I say, swiping my eyes. “Why did you threaten me?”

“I didn’t fuckin’ threaten you,” Riggs growls.

“Sir,” the lady gasps, “how dare you speak to her like this! I won’t be bringing my car here again, terrible business.”

And there it is, all I need to put doubt in people’s minds about Cash Riggs and his business.

I give him a look that shows him just how pleased I am about this, and he looks like he’s about to explode.


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