Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Fucking hysterical.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brooks
“You got some shit to say to me?” Fallon asked as I walked back into the club after saying goodnight to Cali, trying to ignore the urge to get on my bike and follow her home.
It was kind of insane how much I wanted to be with her, how much being alone felt so… wrong.
“I don’t have as much to tell you as I have a feeling I will need to. Things are still a little murky,” I admitted.
“When is shit with the women around this club not murky?” he asked, shaking his head as he accepted a beer that Callow passed him. “What do you have so far? Just so I’m not blindsided by something in the near future.”
“Right now I got my old best friend dead in a way that I am seriously starting to suspect was not a simple car accident.”
“Sorry, man,” Fallon said, wincing. “What makes you say that?”
“A cleanly cut brake line. A password protected flash drive hidden in his trunk’s first aid kit. Carefully disguised code on his monthly bills, sitting out in plain sight to be found when I cleaned out his apartment. And we can’t forget a fuckton of cash and a gun that was likely fired at some point in a safety deposit box.”
“Sounds like a movie plot,” Fallon said, shaking his head. “Alright. Well, keep me up on shit as you figure it out.”
“I will,” I assured him, wondering if maybe I should take the night with Cali in her apartment to unlock that drive by myself.
I knew she would be pissed about it, but I had no fucking idea what might be on that damn thing.
I was still hemming and hawing my options as Perish, a moving brick wall, ambled over toward Voss’s dog, Nitro, a massive Rottweiler he’d saved from a life as a junkyard guardian, dropped down to his knees, and took the dog’s face between his hands.
“There’s my good boy,” he cooed at him, his voice surprisingly soft for such a big, hard man. “Chase any good squirrels lately?” he asked.
“He’s a violent fuck,” Nave said, moving in beside me. “But he’s got a soft spot for dogs.”
“And women,” I said, recalling the stories from Voss and Finn about how quick he was to offer to do major damage to the fucks who’d hurt their women. And that was before he was in the club. “You’re hoping Fallon will patch you in finally, now that he’s got three new members,” I said.
“Think there’s a shot?” Nave asked.
“Well, you’re definitely next,” I said, shrugging. He’d come in the same time as Voss, who had a patch now.
If I were being honest, the delay was likely my fault. Fallon left shit about the prospects to me. To tell him when it was time to patch someone in, when I was sure they’d proven themselves.
And to be fair, Nave had always pulled his own weight. More, at times, than Sully and Calloway. Like he was intent to prove that he did deserve his patch thanks to his own virtue, and not just because he was a legacy.
“I’ll have a talk with Fallon,” I added. “Voss’s room is sitting empty now. No reason for you to be stuck in the prospect room any longer.”
“Thanks, man,” he said, clamping me on the shoulder before moving off.
My reservations about Nave were more about the fact that we didn’t really know all he’d been up to in the years when he’d been away from Navesink Bank. Though we knew he’d been up to sketchy shit, since that’s how he’d met Voss. He’d been tight-lipped about the rest of it, though.
Thing was, it had been years.
None of the ghosts from his past had shown up to haunt the present.
It was time.
As for Sully, I thought as my gaze slipped in his direction, finding him in a circle with Rune and Croft, likely corrupting the newer prospects with his insanity, he had a while to go before I felt comfortable with him having a patch.
Things were definitely less tense now that Sutton had gone back to Texas to finally open up our new sister chapter. Not having the two of them at each other’s throats had made the morale in the club a lot more laidback.
I wondered as I watched Calloway and Perish join their conversation, if there was a lack of balance in personalities now.
Sully, a troublemaker who never thought of consequences.
Callow, who was always down for whatever his former military buddy wanted to get into.
Perish, who had a violent streak and impulse control issues.
And, of course, Rune and Croft, who, while they kept to themselves in some ways, playing their cards close to their vests, seemed just as down for a good time as the rest.
There was a sudden lack of cool, calm, and collected in the prospect pool.