Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Sinner shrugs. “Was more fun that way.”
“What are you guys talking about?” I look at them again. Really look.
I’d noticed right away that they seemed rougher than usual, and their costumes weren’t the same as the ones on the show, but I hadn’t really thought much about it. A lot of different kinds of people take background jobs for fun and a little money. They might not fit the clean-cut look of most professional actors, but there’s always work for people who can really pull off the big, rough, and scary look.
“Quinn, do we look like actors to you? Do I look like one?” Priest is waiting for something, and seems a little annoyed at me for not automatically knowing what it is.
His leather biker vest is open, revealing a black T-shirt that hugs his chest like a second skin. His muscular arms are bare and covered in colorful ink. There’s an angel down his left arm and a devil on the right. It fits perfectly for tonight. His hard jaw is stubbled and his long black hair is pulled back, showing the shaved sides.
“You don’t not look like actors.” I stare, suddenly very unsure. He said my name like he knows me, but someone like him? You’d think I’d remember.
“Have I really changed that much, Q?”
The bottom drops out of my world.
“Heath?” He’s older, filled out and all grown up. He looks nothing like I remember, but now that I’m looking, I can see what’s left of the boy I knew in his face.
“Haven’t heard that name in years,” he says with a chuckle.
I take a step back, bumping into Colt. “I don’t understand. You aren’t here to work? Then why…” I gesture confusedly at their clothes.
Sinner’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “It’s not a costume.” He turns slowly and I take in the logo on the back of his vest.
“The Outlaw Sons MC?”
Like most sane people, I’ve never had any run-ins with them personally, but The Outlaw Sons are notorious in this city. According to the rumors, they’re dangerous criminals, willing to do just about anything. Drugs, smuggling, weapons dealing, murder. Whatever you can imagine, for the right price.
Heath, or Priest, or whatever his name is now, nods. “Guilty as charged.” There’s a challenge in his gaze, like he’s daring me to run.
I remember Heath as my brother’s best friend. They were about seven years older and I’m sure I was a pain in their asses, but Axel was always good about letting me tag along. As I got older I realized he was trying to shelter me from what was going on in the house, but as a kid I felt like one of the gang when I was with them. Heath was my first crush, when I wasn’t even really old enough to understand why his smile made my insides do cartwheels.
There are so many things I could say, but all that comes out is, “It’s been a long time.”
“Since Axel.” His lips pull tight at the memory. “He’d be fucking over the moon if he saw you. Maybe not in that outfit, but—shit.” His expression hardens with regret. “Coming was a fucked up idea. I’m real glad you’re doing well. Have a good life, kid.”
Before he gets a chance to turn away and vanish from my life again, I grab his wrist. We both stare down at my hand, like touching made this whole situation more real somehow. “No, wait. It’s fine. I… I’m glad you’re here, just surprised. Stay. Talk to me. Why do they call you Priest? Are you religious now?”
Sinner snorts a laugh.
“Fuck off.” Heath’s tone makes it sound like telling Sinner to fuck off is a daily occurrence.
“Oh, come on, the pretty lady asked you a question.” Colt puts his hand on Heath’s shoulder. He and Sinner seem to be enjoying Heath’s discomfort.
“Well, I could ask you the same. What kind of names are Sinner and Colt? Is there a rule about not using normal names if you’re a biker?”
Sinner shrugs. “It’s no secret that we don’t exactly live the kind of life you put on your taxes. There’s safety in anonymity. Some guys have reasons, some just liked the sound of it. I picked Sinner because I’ve made terms with the shit I’ve done and I don’t need anyone’s forgiveness. Colt, on the other hand, it’s probably ‘cause he wants the ladies to think he’s hung like a hor—”
Colt elbows him hard enough in the gut to knock Sinner’s laugh into a soft wheeze. “When you run out of thoughts and prayers, it’s the Colt that finishes the job.”
I nod with mock seriousness. “Very scary.”
He narrows his eyes, hesitating a second before adjusting his stance to flash the butt of a gun nestled at his side. I suck in a surprised breath. He’s had it on him the whole time, even while we were dancing. Sinner and Heath don’t seem surprised.