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)
The building used to be an old, abandoned textile mill. It was right on the river and a prime spot for coming in and out of the city—which is why we’d bought it and converted it into our clubhouse. Eager to get inside, I pulled through the gate and parked. I’d just gotten out of the truck when I noticed Prez walking towards me.
Surprise marked his face as he asked, “Where’s Beck?”
“Took him over to Amy’s place.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
The vein in Prez’s neck pulsed with anger, and that wasn’t something I wanted to see, especially when that anger was directed at me. While I was more than capable of holding my own, Prez was not a man I’d want to throw hands with—not that it would ever come to that. I respected him too much for that. Doing my best to de-escalate things, I told him, “It was what he wanted. I know it’s fucked and I tried to talk him out of it, but...”
“Goddamn it,” Prez grumbled under his breath. “I thought we were past all this bullshit.”
“So did I but seems he still needs some time to himself.”
“At his dead girl’s house?” he snapped. “At Christmas? That’s just asking for trouble.”
“I thought the same thing, but he said he needed the time.” I could tell by his expression that he didn’t like my answer, so I added, “After everything, it didn’t feel right not to give him that.”
“Yeah, I get it.” He ran his hand over his goatee. “Guess that means he’s still pissed at me.”
“I don’t know if I’d say that, but he’s still going through something.”
“Isn’t he always?”
“Yeah, but this seems different. He’s trying to come into his own or something. Hell, maybe he’s finally growing up.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Prez shook his head and smiled. “Love the kid, but damn. He can be a real thorn in my side.”
“Bet you could say that about all of us at times.”
“No doubt.” He chuckled, but his laughter quickly faded into concern. “You really think he’s doing okay?”
“Hard to tell, Prez. In some ways, he seemed to be holding his on, but in others, he seemed a bit off. Either way, he was a hell of a lot better than he was a few months ago.”
“Well, there’s that.”
“If you want, I can go back over there tonight and see how he’s making it.”
“No, I’ll go. It’s time he and I hashed this thing out once and for all.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Appreciate you going to get him. Now, go take a load off, and I’ll get with you in the morning.”
“Sounds good.” Prez turned, and as he started towards his truck, I told him, “Later, Prez.”
“Later.”
Once he was gone, I made my way inside the clubhouse. I let out a deep breath as I stepped through the front door. It felt good to be back. It was my second home, and at times, it felt like more than that. I’d been here since we first started working on the place.
We’d spent months tearing down walls and completely overhauling the inside. We’d done what we could to hold onto the building's historic elements and kept exposed brick walls and industrial accents. There were twenty or more small bedrooms, a full kitchen with all the works, a hangout room with sofas and TVs, and a large bar.
The heart of the clubhouse was undoubtedly the bar. It was where all the brothers gathered, especially when we needed to let off some steam, and I was in dire need of doing exactly that.
As soon as I walked inside, I was hit with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey. It was late, so I wasn’t surprised to find that Goose, Rusty, and a couple of prospects were the only ones there. I was okay with that. Rusty and Goose were always a good time.
Rusty was a bit of a wise ass. He was tall and built like a fucking refrigerator, and he was as stubborn as the day was long. You never knew what was going to come out of his mouth.
Goose was a bit more even-tempered. He always played it cool, and he had the looks to match. He had one of those kid faces that made him look ten years younger than he really was, and he would’ve looked even younger if it wasn’t for all the fucking muscles and tattoos.
Neither of them had an ol’ lady, so there was no urgency for either of them to get home. And from the looks of their heavy eyelids and sagging shoulders, they should’ve gone home hours ago.
As soon as Rusty spotted me, he flashed a smile. “Hey, brother. When did you roll in?”
“Just got here.” I grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey from the shelf as I told him, “And if anyone’s asking, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”