Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Jack. From the motel?” she asked.
“Yeah. Working girls frequent the motel. Men stepping out on their wives. Newly released prisoners. Truckers coming through and spending the night. That kinda thing. He would know their names and when they’re usually around.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that would be great. I’d love to… buy her a coffee or something,” she said as I pulled into the lot of the clubhouse. “Wow,” she said, looking up at it. “I mean, you could tell it’s big from down in town, but it’s even more massive up close.”
“Fifteen thousand square feet,” I confirmed. “Divided equally among the three floors, but the top one isn’t finished yet. Which is how you landed a big bedroom all your own,” I told her. “The girls will have made sure it’s clean and ready for company by now,” I added.
“Really?” she asked, big eyes looking a little watery again.
It didn’t escape me that ever since Bayleigh and her mom left town, she didn’t really have anyone left. From what I could tell, too, she’d been really close with her sister. And didn’t seem to have a circle of friends.
“Of course,” I said, nodding. “Morgaine was organizing everyone as soon as we decided you should come stay with us.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said, blinking back the tears. “Can I admit something without you telling the others?” she asked, shooting me a skittish look.
“Of course.”
“I’m a little… intimidated by the guys,” she said. “I mean, I know Bayleigh and I took a ride with them once, but that was such a crazy night that I think I was running on pure adrenaline. But on a normal day, they’re intimidating.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate yourself,” I said, shooting her a smirk. “You once tried to poison Slash.”
To that, she let out a little snorting laugh.
“He messed with my Taylor Swift channel,” she said, shaking her head. “He had to pay.”
“Just walk in there like they all want Taylor Swift banned on all radio stations. They won’t be so intimidating when you’re pissed at them for not appreciating her.”
“That helps,” she admitted, giving me a big smile. Not quite the megawatt ones I was used to, but a good one considering all she’d been through the past few days.
“Need a minute?” I asked.
“Yes,” she agreed, nodding.
“No problem,” I said, reaching for my phone, toggling through a music app, then connecting it to the car.
There was a full beat of uncertainty as the music started before she turned to me with that big smile as her favorite artist started singing about jewels or some shit.
She turned forward again, swaying a bit and mouthing the words until, eventually, she was just singing it. Not well, mind you, but with her whole chest. You had to appreciate it.
“Thank you,” she said when the song switched to something slower. “I needed that,” she declared with a little nod. “We can go in now.”
With that, we gathered her things out of the trunk, and made our way to the front door as I tried not to think about how nice it was going to be to have her right next door.
I failed.
CHAPTER SIX
Everleigh
I didn’t know what to expect of the inside.
I honestly didn’t think I’d even seen a movie or TV show that had shown a biker clubhouse.
So my imagination likely ran away from me, imagining beer can pyramids and naked lady posters.
What I got instead was this massive, open space that was surprisingly decorated. Not, you know, things just tossed in a room, but chosen and placed intentionally.
As someone who really liked order and aesthetics, I appreciated that someone had really put work into the living space that melted into the dining area, then, finally, the giant kitchen.
It definitely had a distinctly masculine feel to it, but it was airy and open. And there wasn’t a single centerfold pinned to a wall. Sure, there was a bar area, but it was arranged and elevated looking. If there was beer anyway, I guessed it was in the fridge.
“I was warned about you,” I said as a cat appeared out of nowhere, jumping on the back of the couch as I was moving past it. “You’re gorgeous,” I told him. He was, with his long grayish-white fur and big blue eyes. “But mean,” I added, sensing him eyeing me up.
I’d never had a cat.
But my grandma had like a million of them all during my childhood. So I’d gotten good at reading their body language so I didn’t get a scratch or bite. And this cat was looking for blood.
“Does he have a name?”
“Cat,” Detroit said, making me turn with raised brows. “No one got around to naming him when he was a kitten. Then… Cat just stuck.”
“Well, Cat, we are just going to keep a wide berth from each other, okay?” I said, taking a giant step to the side for good measure.