Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I was just about to respond when Jenna came up behind Jud and smiled. A sexy smirk crossed her lips as she asked, “Are you checking up on me?”
“Just stopped by for a beer.”
“Um-hmm.” Damn, she looked good. Her hair was pulled up, and she was wearing a pair of slim-fit jeans that hugged her ass in all the right places. And when she smiled that smile, it nearly knocked me out of my boots. She placed her hand on my shoulder and eased up on her tiptoes, whispering in my ear, “Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you.”
“Never thought you would.” I admired her smile for a moment, then asked, “So, you’re making it okay?”
“I’ve been better than okay. The people are nice, and Jud has been so patient and nice.” Jenna motioned her head towards the stairs in the back. “And Luna absolutely adores Stacie. She made her mac-and-cheese for dinner, and that earned her some major brownie points.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Well, I better get back to it.” She gave my shoulder a pat. “Wouldn’t want to upset the boss man.”
“You don’t gotta worry about that,” Jud replied with a wink.
As soon as she was out of earshot, I leaned closer to Jud and said, "Thanks for giving her a chance, Jud. I owe you one.”
“I should be the one thanking you. She’s a good one.”
“I’m glad it’s working out.” My gaze lingered on Jenna for a moment longer before I stood and announced, "I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything."
“You know I will.”
Once he returned his attention back to the bar, I turned and started weaving my way through the crowd. When I reached the door, I looked back, and a sense of pride washed over me as I watched Jenna as she carried a round of beers to a group in the corner. She was doing alright. Hell, she was doing more than alright, and that pleased me in ways I didn’t expect.
I left there feeling pretty good, and the feeling stuck with me the following day as I entered the clubhouse. The guys were gathered in the kitchen, talking and enjoying their coffee, and even though it had been a long week, they all seemed to be in good spirits. I poured myself a cup of coffee and made my way to the end of the table where Memphis was sitting. As I sat down beside him, I asked, “How’s the hand?”
“It’s still attached,” Memphis grumbled. “But I gotta tell ya. This cast is a fucking nuisance. Hell, I can barely wipe my damn ass.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you got tanked and tangled up with those Kings,” Prez barked from across the room.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He leaned in closer as he whispered, “Dude had a noggin like a fucking brick. I don’t know how he could keep his balance with that damn thing. Had to be heavy as shit.”
“I bet he said the same thing about you.”
“Hey, I’m a wounded man over here.”
“Because you pulled a stunt you never should’ve pulled.” It had been a couple of weeks, and Prez was still pissed about the fight. I couldn’t exactly blame him. We’d had issues with the Kings in the past, and none of us were looking forward to another run-in with them, especially Prez. He knew their threat wasn’t something to take lightly, and that had him on edge. He was at his breaking point when he told Memphis, “Hell, you should’ve just broken it yourself and saved us all the trouble.”
“Hey, this shit ain’t all on me,” Memphis argued. “The Kings have been a pain in our asses for months. I just gave them a little taste of what they’ve got coming.”
“And you didn’t think we needed a minute to catch our breaths after everything we had going on?”
“He didn’t think,” Prez interjected. “That’s the problem. He was too busy wallowing in his little pity party to think about the consequences of his actions, and now, we’re stuck having to deal with the aftermath.”
Memphis turned and glared. “It’d be nice to see you doing a little wallowing. You lost a son, remember?”
“You’re going through something. I know that ‘cause I’m going through it, too. So, I’m gonna let that shit slide, but I’m only gonna let it slide once.” Prez’s eyes glared with a fury I’d never seen before as he growled, “You even think about throwing your brother in my face again, and I’ll have your ass on a fucking string. You got that?”
“Yes, sir,” he muttered with defeat. “I got it.”
“Good. Now, pull your head out of your ass and figure out a plan for next week’s run.”
There was no plan to figure out. We already knew exactly who was going where and when. It was decided days ago. Goose, Memphis, and I were meeting with our handler later in the week. We’d give him the goods, and he’d give us a satchel of money in return—money that we would launder throughout the next month.