Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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“Just fucking peachy.” Ace stalks toward the bar, leaving me to face his wife alone.

She offers me an apologetic smile as she takes his seat. “He’s worried about you, but he has a hard time showing it.”

I shrug. “His tantrum is proof enough.”

Birdie laughs and swirls the glass of wine in her hand. I don’t know what kind it is, but it’s probably a lot better than the swill we used to serve in this joint. After she married Ace, he made sure the bar stocked good wine for her. It’s a testament to his loyalty to this woman, and I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t perfect for him. She’s a tall, blonde bombshell, but behind her blue eyes is a wisdom that can only come from being intimately acquainted with tragedy. I don’t make it a habit to talk to many of the women here, but Birdie makes you feel like you could tell her anything, and she wouldn’t judge you for it. I admire her for that, and I respect her because she’s Ace’s wife. But more than anything, I appreciate her for loving his deranged ass.

“How was Texas?” she asks.

I abandon the joint to fuck around on my guitar again. “Hot, humid, and full of demons.”

“Funny,” she muses. “I think people say the same thing about Vegas.”

“Nah.” I stretch my neck from side to side. “Vegas is where people come to outrun their demons. Why do you think we ended up here?”

The smile slips from Birdie’s face, and her eyes are distant as she seems to recall something from her own troubled past. I’m a prick for reminding her of it, but she snaps out of it quickly.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to clear your name.” She leans back, crosses her legs, and studies me. “But can I say something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“No.” She smirks.

I strum the guitar mindlessly while she sets her wineglass aside and lowers her voice.

“I hope you do get closure someday, Kodiak, because you deserve that. But don’t fool yourself into believing it will fix that gaping hole in your chest. The only cure for a cancer like that is cutting it out. Let go of whatever guilt you’re carrying and lay those memories to rest. Because if you don’t, they’ll eat you alive.”

I meet her gaze, too numb for words. Birdie doesn’t expect them. She rises from her seat, offers me a sad smile, and then heads to the bar to rejoin her husband.

With her thoughts hanging over me, I lean my head back against the sofa and close my eyes. Time passes. The smoke clouds my brain and tries to dull everything, but some things never go away. The ache in my chest. The constant throbbing of my temples. The pounding of my heart when I think about everyone I’ve ever failed, and then inevitably, the one person I can’t.

“Hello, handsome.” Destiny’s raspy voice purrs into my ear as the couch dips beside me.

“Go away,” I murmur.

“Don’t be like that.” She grabs my face and forces me to look at her. “What’s wrong, baby? You need me to make you feel better?”

She wishes she could. But her eyes are green instead of brown, and her hair doesn’t slide through my fingers like silk. Instead of smelling like peaches, she smells like cigarettes. And when she looks at me, I feel hollow. But her body is warm and willing, and if I close my eyes, she can be whoever I want her to be.

“Fuck it.” I stagger to my feet and toss my guitar aside. “Come on then.”

She toddles after me in her clunky heels, following me down the hall until we find an empty room. Most of them are already full of passed-out club members and whoever they’ve chosen to bed tonight. The second to last door is open and available, and I manage to make it inside and collapse in the chair by some small miracle.

Destiny pulls out her phone and taps at it until she finds an obnoxious club beat, making a whole production of it as she strips. I can barely see straight, and right now, there are two of her. But when I shut my eyes, my consciousness takes me to another time and place. Peaches, liquor, and eyes so deep and warm I can still feel them on my skin.

“Can I ride you tonight?” Destiny straddles me and shoves her tits against my chest.

“You know how this works,” I grunt. “If you want that kind of shit, go find someone else who wants it too.”

A moment of silence passes while I wait for the door to shut behind her on the way out. I almost wish it would, but it never does. Destiny doesn’t have enough self-respect to tell me to go fuck myself. She likes to pretend I’m still a rock god, and she’s my number one fan. From the first night she saw me here, she’s been hell-bent on sinking her claws into me. She wasn’t the only one. Every stray at the compound came sniffing in my direction, unconcerned with the small detail of my former murder charge. To women like Destiny, the details aren’t important.


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