Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Gator raised his hands near his ears. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Prez. Got nothing but respect for you and your daughter. And I like my dick attached to my body,” he muttered under his breath, earning himself a nod of approval from Copper. “I don’t do nothing but talk to her every so often.”
“Let’s get back on track,” Shell cut in, the voice of reason as always. Worry still pinched the corners of her eyes despite the back-and-forth teasing. “What should we do about this, Cop? Do you think this guy is keeping her from calling us? Because that is a huge red flag.”
“Simple,” Copper replied. “We take some guys, ride out there, and kill the motherfucker.”
Thunder slapped a hand on the table hard enough to rattle the bottles. “Sounds good to me, brother. I can be ready to roll out tomorrow morning.”
Shell held up a hand as she straightened away from Copper. “Hold up, Rambo. How do you think she’s going to react if ten of you guys show up at her door, guns blazing? You know how stubborn she is about her independence and her reluctance to let the club meddle in her life. She’s likely to dig her heels in and tell us everything is fine. And we don’t even know if there is a problem with the boyfriend. This could be something completely unrelated.”
Thunder let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh, why you gotta be so reasonable, Shell? Always ruining our fun.”
She smiled at him as she shrugged. “I know my daughter.”
Almost mindlessly, as though touching her was automatic, Copper’s hand slid up to the back of her neck, thumb rubbing slow circles. “So what do you think we should do, babe? We can’t let this go. My gut is screaming just like yours.” He kissed Shell’s temple as she sagged before their eyes, all that strength folding in for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
For the rest of his life, which might be much shorter than he’d planned, Saint would wonder what possessed him to open his mouth right then. Something in Shell’s worried face, maybe. Or the memory of strawberry blonde hair catching the light in the clubhouse kitchen. Or maybe just the itch under his skin that said something was wrong, and he needed to be the one to fix it.
“I can ride out to Texas,” he said.
All eyes fell on him, making him feel like a lab specimen.
Shit. He didn’t often have the full focused attention of the club’s president on him, and Copper’s dark expression nearly had him shitting himself. Respect didn’t cancel out the fact that Copper could end him six different ways with a pool cue.
“Um…”
“What do you mean?” Shell asked, setting a hand on Copper’s thigh before her ol’ man could shoot down the idea.
Saint shrugged. “My repo schedule is light this week with just a couple of small jobs I can push. Find some club-related reason for me to be out there, and I’ll go. Whenever any one of us is out there, Beth always feeds us. I’ll show up unannounced and act all embarrassed when I realize you didn’t let her know I’d be in town. This way, she can’t hide the scumbag away if he’s still in the picture.”
And he could be the one to break the guy’s teeth if necessary. It had been too long since he’d felt the sting of his fist connecting with a cheekbone. Too many people repaid their loans on time lately.
“Oh, Saint, you’re so sweet to offer, but I don’t know.” Shell glanced up at Copper with a contemplative expression. “What do you think?”
“You get even a hint of a feeling that this guy is the problem, you’ll tell me?” Copper asked, eyes drilling into him.
Saint nodded. “Of course. Full transparency, no matter what I find.” He didn’t have a death wish.
“And you’ll make it clear to him he’s no longer welcome around my daughter?”
“Copper…” Shell shook her head. They still didn’t know if the boyfriend was the problem, though Saint was on Copper’s side here. He’d put money on the guy being the issue.
“In the most painful way possible,” Saint promised.
“Men,” Shell muttered under her breath with a huff, but she didn’t object to his promise. Worry still shadowed her eyes, but there was a spark of relief surfacing.
“All right.” Copper held out a closed fist. “You sort this shit for us, and I’ll owe you big time.”
“Nah, happy to do it. You’re my family.” Saint tapped his knuckles with his president’s as Thunder patted him on the back in a heavy, approving thump.
“Stop by the house in the morning. We’ll feed you a good meal before you hit the road,” Thunder said. Respect sat under his casual tone. Saint didn’t miss it.
“Thanks, man. I’ll do that.” Saint hadn’t popped by his sister’s house in a week, and if he went much longer, she’d track his ass down and whop him upside the head. Not only did two of his siblings still live there, but he also had a passel of nieces and nephews to hang with.