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 found out later the woman had been forty-five.
He wouldn’t have cared about her age, even if she told him up front, since she lured him to her fancy double-wide trailer with the promise of an endless supply of expensive whiskey and quality coke.
In those forty-eight hours, her massive fucking tits almost smothered him to death more times than he could count. He also discovered she could suck a knob off a door.
It was the best birthday in all of his eighteen years.
Until he sobered up.
Until she finally opened the shades in her bedroom and he saw her without all the heavy makeup. Without that tight-as-fuck shape-wear she squeezed herself into that he swore was invented solely to trick men. Until he saw her pussy flaps looked like a goddamn Arby’s roast beef sandwich in the light of day.
His walk of shame turned into a sprint of horror and ‘never agains.’
It was a hard lesson learned, but from then on out, his strict rule was to pick them only while he was still stone-cold sober.
Though, rules were meant to be broken. The whole reason he had a daughter.
But that horror story was also how he got his road name. When he told his brother what happened, and why he’d been missing for two days, Rubble started calling him Stones for having the damn stones to actually tell that story out loud. Stone dropped the extra S once he got his full set of patches a year later.
Now his road name could mean a shitload of things.
“Brother, why you got the sweet butts watchin’ your girl?” he heard from his right.
“Don’t got a fuckin’ choice right now,” he answered Lick. “Can’t leave her alone.”
“Get a house mouse.”
Stone hooked an eyebrow at their club secretary. “Got one in mind?”
“Fuck no.”
Stone shook his head. “Well, that’s helpful, asshole.”
“No, the asshole is you, lettin’ those club whores watch your girl. I mean, what’s Juicy gonna teach her? How to suck dick? She certainly ain’t teachin’ her math or spellin’.”
“She learns that shit in school.”
“They teach girls how to suck dick in school? Know a few that musta missed that fuckin’ class.”
“Lick—” Stone growled, but before he could finish, their treasurer, Outlaw, slammed his hand on the table.
“Where the fuck’s Ogre?”
Stone glanced across the table to the empty spot on Ransom’s right.
At the other end of the table, Wheels hooted loudly. “When the fuck is that bastard ever here on time?”
Stone could easily answer that. Not once in the eight years since Ogre was voted in as the chapter’s sergeant at arms.
Ogre knew no one would say shit to his face about it. That was why he made a great club enforcer. To him, a fist could solve any problem. Or a knife. Or a gun. But anyone who knew Ogre, knew he didn’t need a weapon. He’d put you six-feet under with a beatdown alone.
If you pulled a knife or gun on him? He’d fucking laugh. If Ogre actually laughed.
Stone wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard it. For those that did, those motherfuckers’ best bet was to run as fast and fucking far as their shaking legs would take them.
“You seriously got Juicy watchin’ your kid?” Ransom asked beside him.
“Juicy, Slick, Windy, Loosey, Swallow…almost all of ‘em,” Lick answered for him.
Stone scowled at him.
“What the fuck, dude?” Ransom laughed. “You gotta be desperate.”
“No shit,” Stone grumbled. “Goddamn Sheena, man. The bitch promised me she’d stay clean this time.”
“Hard to fix a junkie,” Wheels began, “if they ain’t willin’ to fix themselves.”
Their road captain should know. He lost his younger brother to a fentanyl overdose.
He should’ve known better than to fuck with fentanyl. Not much was prohibited from club property, but that shit was. Any member caught with it or doing it would be stripped of their colors.
“Yeah, well, I’m fuckin’ done with that bullshit. Sunny ain’t goin’ back to Sheena after she gets out.”
“Then you definitely need a house mouse,” Ransom said.
How the fuck did the officer’s meeting turn into a dissection of his life’s choices?
His eyes flicked to the empty seat. Because goddamn Ogre was his normal late-ass self.
Motherfucker.
“Know one?” Stone asked his prez.
“Not off the top of my melon, no, but I’ll ask around. Someone’s gotta have a sister or cousin you can trust.”
“You sayin’ I can’t trust our club girls?”
“Sure,” Ransom answered, “you can trust them to suck and fuck the shit outta you. To help raise your kid? Fuck no.”
“If you find one that’s got big knockers and a tight cunt, even better, right?”
“Who?” Stone asked Wheels.
“The house mouse,” he answered.
“Find one that can cook, too,” Outlaw suggested, like it was that fucking easy.
“And doesn’t bitch,” Lick added.
Now they were weaving a fucking fairy tale.
He didn’t need a house mouse who could suck and fuck him. He could get that anywhere. What he needed was someone stable in Sunny’s life. Someone who wasn’t a total fuck up and could take care of his daughter and his house when he wasn’t there. Which was too often.