Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
He snorted and shook his head.
Now that she did what she came to do, it was time to follow Patch’s advice and skedaddle. “Well, it was…uh…nice…meeting you.”
He snorted again. “Really?”
Taryn blinked. “Really, what?”
“Said was it nice meeting me. Why was it nice?”
Nobody had ever pressed her on that pleasantry before. She wasn’t sure how to answer. “Uh…”
“Don’t gotta feed me bullshit. Know you’re only here ‘cause of your guilt.”
He nailed it. She felt horrible when he got arrested and ended up doing time on her behalf. She’d actually spent plenty of sleepless nights over it.
“Again, I only wanted to thank you for stepping in and stopping Vic from—”
“Beatin’ the fuck outta you? Shoulda stepped in earlier.”
“You didn’t have to get involved at all, but you did. Unlike other witnesses.”
“Buncha fuckin’ pussies.”
Okay, then. “Anyway, I said what I came here to say and now I need to go.”
When Taryn turned to escape, he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “Don’t gotta leave.”
Was he using the hand he just had down his pants? “I think I do. Patch was right when he said I don’t belong here.”
“Like a broken fuckin’ clock, that fucker’s right twice a damn day.” He turned to face her. “Said you don’t belong here. Where do you belong? With that asshole?”
“No.” More like, hell no. If she didn’t share a child with Vic, she’d never want to deal with him again.
He jerked his chin toward the hallway where she had come in. “Let’s go.”
If he planned on escorting her to the door, she’d gladly go with him.
As he set off down the long corridor, he groaned and pressed tattooed fingers to his temple.
“Hangover?” she asked as she followed behind him.
She’d take his simple grunt as a yes.
When he passed the exterior door she and Patch used earlier, she paused. This was where they parted ways.
He stopped abruptly, twisting his head to look over his shoulder.
“Well, thank you again.”
“No.”
No? “No, what?”
“Comin’ with me.”
Sure, sure. She’d get right on that because she had nothing better to do except hang out with an outlaw biker like they were besties. An everyday occurrence for her, right?
Wrong.
“Go with you where? Is there another exit that’s closer to my car?” Please say yes.
“Need coffee.”
That sounded like a personal problem and not one she needed to deal with. She already had her caffeine limit earlier. “I appreciate the invite, but I really need to get going.”
“Came here to thank me, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then, come with me.”
Umm. How exactly did he want her to thank him? She already expressed her gratitude in words. She certainly wasn’t going to do it a second time with action.
Going with him wherever he was headed would be a dumb idea. But then, so was coming to this place. Or insisting he meet with her. “I’m good. I don’t need coffee.”
“Stepped in to help you. Spent thirteen months in a cage like a fuckin’ animal. A few more minutes of your time don’t even compare.”
Damn it. He was using her guilt against her.
What was one more bad decision?
He came closer, wrapped his long, tattooed fingers around the nape of her neck, gave it a gentle squeeze, then steered her down the hallway.
She took a last parting glance at what could’ve been her escape. “Just coffee, right?”
“Yeah,” came his deep grumble.
“Are you hiding a Starbucks somewhere in this building?”
He snorted and kept moving. At the end of the hallway, he hooked a left and into what turned out to be the school’s former cafeteria. Similar to outside, the garbage cans were overflowing, and trash, like cigarette butts, were strewn all over the floor and the old brown folding lunch tables with the attached round, red seats. Those were a flashback from her past. She remembered those dinosaurs from when she was in school.
“Juicy, get me some fuckin’ coffee!” he shouted, then winced. “Gotta get the taste of your pussy outta my mouth.”
Nice. “Mouthwash would work, too,” Taryn mumbled under her breath.
“Don’t forget to add the Jack,” he ordered.
The brunette who had come down the stairs with him ducked into the kitchen behind the school’s original serving line. Juicy was nothing like the lunch ladies Taryn remembered.
“Sit.” James, or Stone, or whatever he was called, pointed at one of those round, uncomfortable seats she remembered turning her ass numb during lunchtime.
“Thank you but I’ll pass since I’m not staying long.”
With a shake of his head, he huffed out a breath. But before he could respond, Juicy came over and handed him a chipped Harley Davidson mug. “Here you go, baby.”
Stone eyed the steaming coffee. “This shit fresh?”
“Windy made it about ten minutes ago.”
Stone grimaced. “For fuck’s sake. She’s not allowed to make the fuckin’ coffee.”
Juicy shrugged, placated him by patting his chest, then went over to another man, also wearing a black leather vest, casually leaning back against the cafeteria wall.