Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
She doesn’t belong there.
Pulling into the clubhouse behind an SUV, I follow it to the garage and park in my usual space, dismounting as quickly as possible and helping Claire off while ignoring her smiling at me like the cat who got the cream.
The new Tim climbs out of the SUV and opens the back door for Kitty, Rogue, and Rose. They climb out one after the other, chatting about the prices of drinks at club Twenty-Four-Carat Gold.
Lead fills my boots. I can’t fucking move. Kitty’s eyes slice to me then Claire before eventually landing on my bike. Rogue tugs on her arm, and she jerks away.
“I saw you getting friendly with Michael Carnell,” Claire says, her voice sugary sweet, like they’re best fucking friends and she hasn’t been bitching me out about her all night.
“That’s funny because he said he knew you.” Kitty arches a brow, walking past us.
My gaze whips to Claire, alarms bells blaring. What the fuck?
Shaking her head, she frowns, forcing out a laugh before taking off to walk with them. “I met him a couple times years ago. I’m surprised he even remembered me. Really, my friend knew him, not me.”
Not once has she mentioned knowing Michael. When I killed Nicolas, she knew he was a Carnell, but I never asked how she knew. Following them through the clubhouse to the bar, I grip Claire under the arm and steer her away from the girls to a corner out of earshot. “You want to explain to me how Michael recognized you?”
Blowing out a breath, she leans into me, whispering, “I met him through a friend years ago. I honestly don’t know why he would remember me.” She shrugs.
I take a moment to study her features, looking for any deception, then release her, jerking my head toward the door we just came through. “You have makeup all over your face.” The black smears from her tears have dried like zebra stripes.
“Oh my god.” She swallows and covers her face with her hands, rushing toward the exit.
“Damn, what did you say to her?” Dodger slaps me on the back. “Never seen a woman haul ass out of here so fast.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” I scoff. “They leave your room like that every time they see your tiny dick.”
Moving to the bar, I wave Jess over. “A bottle of whiskey.”
“I’m glad Jess is back behind the bar. These prospects are fucking useless.” Dodger holds up two fingers when she only brings back one glass.
I hadn’t really noticed she’d been gone. “Where has she been?”
“Fuck knows. Europe, I think.” She places the glasses down and uncaps the bottle. “You been traveling, sweetheart?” Dodger asks, looking down her top when she leans over to pour the bourbon.
“Until I ran out of money.”
“Well, let me add to your fund.” He beams, digging into his pocket and reeling off a couple twenties.
“Thanks, Dodger.”
“Any time, gorgeous.”
“She won’t fuck you.” I snort as he cranes his neck to watch her walk away.
Jess doesn’t fuck anyone. She came here to earn cash and see her uncle, a nomad who would drop in every month.
“I can live in hope, brother.”
Downing the amber fire in my glass, I pour another and knock it back just as quickly. Alcohol is going to be my crutch tonight.
“Rough night?” He takes the bottle and adds another serving to my glass.
“You have no fucking idea.”
“I might,” he grunts, nodding over my shoulder to Claire reappearing, her face freshly washed and free of makeup. She shimmies her ass as she walks, joining us at the bar.
“I need to drain the snake,” Dodger grunts, side-eyeing her.
“You mean tadpole,” I call after him.
“It’s a grower, not a shower,” he calls back.
Helping herself to his abandoned stool and glass, Claire pours herself two fingers. “How did Kitty get so good at cards?”
I follow her gaze to the woman in question, fighting the smile wanting to curl my lips. “She learned to play when she was young. Being surrounded by these assholes, she caught on quick to their tricks and learned how to read people.”
“That new brother can’t keep his eyes off her.” Clutching my glass, I take a gulp, finally starting to feel the effects warming my veins and loosening the tension in my neck. Wheels is sitting on a table opposite where Kitty’s playing blackjack with Green, Monster, and Rogue, trying not to stare at her and failing. “I haven’t seen her without a wig in a long time,” she muses, trying to get a rise out of me.
“You sure it’s not you who’s obsessed with her?”
“Speaking of obsessed…” She rolls her eyes, tracking Callan’s entry and path directly to Rogue. Wrapping a hand around her throat, he tips her head back and kisses her from behind. Within seconds, she’s twisting out of her seat and climbing him. “Must be nice to be wanted,” she muses.