Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The message was clear: get him out of here so we can research.
Luckily, Hail was just as eager to explore as the rest of us had been when we’d been released.
I remembered how badly I’d wanted food, a drink, and someone pretty to take home.
As soon as they were gone, we put away our guns and got to work.
“I know that look,” Detroit said, looking at Slash. “You like him.”
“He’s crazy. Crazy can be good for a club. But I want to know his past first.”
Luckily, Hail was not a common name.
It wasn’t hard to find out more about him.
His rap sheet was long and full of drunk and disorderly conduct and violence.
But he hadn’t done any long bids until the cop car shit.
Reading between the lines of his criminal history and some information Rook was able to find on the dark web, we felt pretty comfortable assuming that Hail had worked as hired muscle in the past. Over in Chicago, though.
We weren’t sure if he’d left before or if he’d been moved when he’d been convicted.
“You want him,” Detroit concluded when we’d done as much digging as we could.
“I think it’s worth giving him a shot to prospect. The guys will have more to say when they get back later.”
“Where’s he gonna go?” Saint asked. “I’m still using the room over the stationary store.”
The one major downfall of taking guys fresh out of prison was the whole parole situation, since most of us got out early and were stuck on that shit for at least a year.
Saint was getting close to being done.
But he couldn’t be rooming with another ex-con.
“Motel will work,” Slash said, shrugging. “Hail doesn’t seem like someone who will mind the accommodations. Hopefully, he gets Mike as a P.O. He’d be a fucking nightmare with Nancy.”
God, he’d be back in prison in a heartbeat with her. Rook barely managed to stay out, and he was toeing every line.
As it was, he was going to be hungover, if not still drunk, for his first check-in. And, you know, bloodied and bruised.
Still, I saw the glint in Slash’s eye.
He wanted Hail.
We had a new prospect for the club.
Colter - 12 months
“What’s that look for?” I asked when I walked into the clubhouse to find a bunch of the women standing around with strange smiles on their faces.
“Nothing,” Everleigh, a terrible liar, said with a squeaky voice.
“Are you guys up to something your men aren’t going to be happy about?” I asked, small eyeing them.
The last time they looked all suspicious, they’d been plotting an April Fool’s prank that ended up with glitter being embedded in my beard for weeks afterward.
“Not this time,” Murphy said, smirking.
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m buying that,” I said, shaking my head. “Where’s my woman? Is she involved in your scheming? Shit, she’s probably the ringleader,” I said, but I was smiling. Because I loved my messy, unpredictable, prickly, fearless woman.
“Upstairs,” Nyx said. She was probably the best liar of the bunch. If it weren’t for the others, I wouldn’t have suspected a thing.
“Guess I better go face whatever it is, huh?” I asked, not sure if I was excited or anxious about it. I guess it depended on what kind of scheme Dylan had cooked up.
As a whole, the last year had mostly been filled with getting to know each other more deeply and planning. A lot of planning.
Which training classes to take. What kind of training facility we wanted to open. If we wanted that or a home first. What we wanted in a house. A yard seemed to be the most important thing, since dogs were clearly going to be a big part of our lives.
We hadn’t made any big moves yet. We both seemed content with our room at the clubhouse, with our found family. But it was fun to talk about the future. And to watch how excited Dylan got about it.
She was still the woman she was a year ago. Just less guarded, quicker to smile and laugh, softer, warmer. It was amazing what a little safety and love could do for someone who’d never known it before.
I paused outside the door when I found it closed.
What was she up to?
But I pushed it open.
And I finally understood all the looks I’d gotten downstairs.
Because the room was fucking full of… gift baskets.
“What is this?” I asked, looking around at where the small ones were on the nightstands, on the dresser, the desk, and a much larger one on the bed.
Twelve.
There were twelve of them.
“Surprise!” Dylan said, throwing her arms out, making Sugar let out a little yip of excitement. “We met a year ago today,” she told me. As if I needed a reminder. That was not something a man forgot: the day he met the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. “So I made you a basket for every month.”