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)
With his bandana still pressed to her nose, she nodded. “I will. Again, I’m sorry you had to get involved.”
“I’m not.” It went against his grain to turn his back on the three pigs with their guns trained on him. But he did it—for her—then slowly lifted his arms and interlaced his fingers behind his head.
“Walk backwards toward the sound of my voice. Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Same old fucking song and dance.
He could do this routine in his sleep.
They continued to annoy the fuck out of him by shouting more orders until they had him face-planted on a pig-mobile’s hot hood and cuffed, searched, and divested of his knife, his keys, his chain wallet, his cell phone, and the remainder of the pre-rolled found stuffed deep in his front jeans pocket.
It was bullshit that any scratch made from the rides he took photos of today would now be used toward his defense fund.
He was damn sure that wouldn’t go over well with Ransom. In fact, the prez might let him rot in prison this time.
And Stone wouldn’t blame him one damn bit.
Chapter One
Thirteen months, two weeks, three days and six hours later
“Fuck me,” Stone grumbled when he heard it.
“I am, baby. I’m fucking you soooo good.”
Jesus fuckin’ Christ.
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling for a second before dropping them to the ringing phone on the nightstand next to his bed in the clubhouse.
He had no idea who was calling, but it could be a good paying collection job and he could use the scratch. That left him no choice but to answer, even while one of their sweet butts rode his dick.
After thirteen months in the fucking slammer, he had a lot of catching up to do, so he’d been working his way through all of the Kings’ club girls.
One at a time.
Two at a time.
Sometimes three at a time. It all depended on his mood and how much he wanted to drain his balls.
As soon as he tagged the phone, the ringing stopped. Two seconds later, it started again.
Of fuckin’ course.
He set his jaw and glanced at Windy’s huge tits as they flopped in time with her bouncing on his dick. “Give it a rest, woman. Need to take this.”
“I’ll go slower.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Windy earned her nickname honestly. There wasn’t jack shit between her damn ears. But her pussy was tight and she could suck his nuts through his dick. Smarts weren’t needed for that.
Bracing himself, he swiped his finger across the phone’s screen and stuck it to his ear.
The computerized voice announced a collect call. That meant one thing…
“Fuckin’ fuck.” He reluctantly accepted the charge. “Better be good. In the middle of important business.”
“Important business for you is fucking.”
“Damn right it is. What d’you do?” He could guess. Sheena needed her ass bailed out.
Again.
If he didn’t share a kid with the dumb cunt, he’d have bought her a one-way ticket to Siberia so he’d never have to see or hear from that mistake again.
Unfortunately, she did pop out his nut nugget so he was fucking stuck with her. At least for another eight years. After that, though, all fucking bets were off.
“Why do you assume I did anything?”
“‘Cause you’re callin’ me collect from Dauphin County fuckin’ Prison, that’s why,” he roared. “You sure ain’t visitin’. What the fuck d’you do?”
He sat up abruptly, almost throwing Windy off. She dug her long-ass nails into his thighs to keep her balance and to remain securely on his dick.
Goddamn pro right there.
“I cashed a few checks.”
Translation: she forged a few checks. Probably more than a few. Enough to get busted and prosecuted. Again.
The annoyance rising up his throat left a bitter taste in his mouth. But then, to be fair, he’d been bitter ever since he found out Sheena was knocked up over ten years ago.
Best and worst day of his fucking life.
Loved his girl, but hated the cunt that held his baby hostage in her body for nine months.
“You needed more scratch for Sunny, shoulda reached the fuck out.” He always made sure his girl had what she needed.
“First of all, dickhead, you’ve been away and I couldn’t ask you for shit. But the money wasn’t for Sunny.”
“What the fuck you need scratch for, then?”
She didn’t answer, and that was wasting fucking time. Prisons had a time limit on phone calls.
“What d’you need the scratch for, Sheena?”
When again she didn’t answer, he figured it out.
God-fuckin’-damnit.
“Thought you were fuckin’ clean!” he roared. He pulled the cell phone from his ear, dropped his head and shook it, trying to keep this shit together. Once he took a long breath through flared nostrils, he put the phone back to his ear. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, why you gotta be like that?”
“Fuck you, Pebble. You’ve got no room to talk. You just got out for doing something stupid yourself. That asshole move kept you from your daughter for over a damn year! Don’t act like you’re so high and mighty.”