Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
But I couldn’t stop.
Because behind the motorcycle, behind the leather and the scars, there was a man who could cook dinner, who believed in loyalty above all, who pulled back when it would have been easy to take.
And that kind of man was the most dangerous of all.
Chapter 10
Gonzo
The run was supposed to clear my head.
Couple days out of town, wind in my face, wheels burning miles into the blacktop, it always cured what bothered me. That was how I usually bled off pressure. Let the road consume me. Distance had a way of shrinking problems I couldn’t. Most times, it worked.
Not this time.
Every mile I rode, I saw the same two pictures: my boy in shackles behind Avery Mitchell’s razor wire, and the woman who looked at me like I was something other than the monster I knew I’d been for most of my life. GJ and IvaLeigh—one locked up by men who thought they could control the chaos, one walking a campus never having to worry about life inside of a cage.
We were escorting a load. Nothing glamorous, nothing loud, just the kind of work that keeps a club active and our people fed. We ran heavy and tight, chrome arrowing down the interstate, trucks giving us a wide berth like even they understood what it means when thirty bikes move like one muscle.
We hit a truck stop outside Atlanta. Pipes ticked as they cooled, diesel breath hanging low over the space of the entire lot. I lit a cigarette and leaned into my bike. Loco took the spot beside me, silent a minute, then said, “You look like shit.”
“Observant,” I muttered.
He watched the smoke spin. Loco was built like a telephone pole, straight and tall, and had the personality to match, silent until lightning struck. “You thinking about the kid?”
“Always.” I ground ash off the tip with my thumbnail. “And the woman.”
He didn’t ask which one. He didn’t need to. I told him beforehand I was going to get to Walsh in a way he would remember it. “We’ll get GJ out,” he said, voice flat as a verdict. “As for the girl… warn her twice. If she stays after that, it’s on both of you.”
I snorted. “Warned her three times, and still she keeps coming back for more. Or I keep tempting her because I can’t stay away.”
He glanced at me like I had two heads. “Huh.”
“Sometimes she gets to me, and I don’t think that is a good idea. I’m poison to her passion.”
“Then, brother, best you can do for her is walk away.”
“Can’t do that until her father feels the pain he caused my son.”
Loco shook his head. “Sins of the father always have to be paid by someone.”
We finished the run, turned the trucks over to men who didn’t ask many questions, then split. I hit the motel, stared at the ceiling long enough to feel pathetic and called her.
“Hello?” she said, voice soft, like she was trying to pull the sound back into her.
“It’s me.” I replied, expecting her to know who I was.
A breath, a quiet that wasn’t empty. “You haven’t been around.”
“Yeah. Run. Out of state. Called to check in on you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I did.”
Silence stretched. I could hear noise through the phone—mutterings of a person, but I couldn’t make out who. “How’s… GJ?” she asked.
The name was a blade every time. “Hanging on best anyone can doing time for something they didn’t do.”
“He’ll hold on,” she whispered. “He has you.”
I shut my eyes wishing my boy was free. “And you? IvaLeigh, how are you doing?”
“I’m managing,” she said, a smile under the words that I could feel but not see. “It’s easier now that you called.”
“Good. Don’t let shit get to you. I’ll see you when I get back.” She seemed to pipe up after that. I let her talk about Darla and Collin and school. Not that I gave two shits about any of it. When she started yawning, I used it as an exit to get off the phone.
Only once I told her good night did I find a way to sleep for myself. No one ever had me this knotted up inside and I didn’t like the feeling.
By the time we rolled back into Dreadnought, my bones hurt from riding. I didn’t go to my cabin. Didn’t go see her. Church had been called, and the club came first. The only way I could keep either of them safe was to keep the table strong.
The clubhouse lot was already full when I pulled in. The building threw long shadows across the asphalt. Music bled through the walls, bass steady as a heartbeat. Inside, the main room smelled like old smoke and new polish; somebody had cleaned while we were gone. Good. Felt like a place that could hold the weight.