Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I’m going to kill them. “No, no, I’ll be fine. It’s just noise.” I suppose I should be grateful the Outlaw Sons at least waited until after dinner to destroy the peace.
The house feels extra empty once Grace and Terry leave. Not ready to sleep, I start to clean up, nearly smashing a plate as I rush to fill the dishwasher. Meanwhile up the hill, the bikers party like they don’t have a care in the world. I clench my fists and glare out the back window. I usually put on my noise cancelling headphones and hide in my room with a book when they get noisy, but something about getting bullied around on my own birthday is really ticking me off.
This. This is why I don’t believe them when they come down here pretending to be sweet little helpful boys. Because this is reality. They act like they own the whole neighborhood and nobody else has a say in it! Never mind that I’m basically the only “somebody else” that’s left. I’m still here, aren’t I?
The police won’t touch them. So who will?
I grab my keys and start marching up the block with a lot of feelings and zero plan beyond making sure someone else is just as annoyed as I am. My nails are digging half-moon shapes into my palms, and I don’t care how stupid it is to confront a motorcycle club about making noise on a Friday night.
But even as furious as I am, I almost chicken out when I turn the corner onto the next street and see a row of bikes lining the sidewalk, with bikers and their women hanging out under the streetlights in front of their clubhouse.
This is stupid. What was I thinking?
But Skyhigh’s smug grin flashes through my mind. They’re in there somewhere, him, Dragon and Blackout, probably drinking and partying with half dressed women without a care in the world.
I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead as I pass by a guy who has a woman in a miniskirt pinned up against the wall surrounding their property. Based on his grunts and her encouraging noises, I have one guess what they are doing. Right out in the open? Really? These people seriously live in their own crazy world. A few people give me looks, but nobody says anything or tries to stop me. I almost wish they would.
No.
If this was one of my books, I would have the heroine march right in and give them a piece of her mind. There’s only one problem. As much as I love writing about women who kick ass, I haven’t done much of it myself.
At the gate two big bikers lean against the wall, talking. The way their sharp eyes scan the night makes it clear they’re standing guard. One of them, a tall man with long dark hair and a thick black beard steps forward as I approach.
“Hey, pretty lady. Haven’t seen you around. Where you headed?” His tone is relaxed, even a little friendly, but I don’t think for a moment that he’ll let me pass without answering.
In a sparkly black cocktail dress from dinner and white sneakers because they were the first pair of shoes I found at the door, I definitely looked dressed for something and it’s not this. “I’m… uh… here for the party?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You askin’ or tellin’?”
“Let her in, Riot. Unless you think she’s trouble,” the other asks with a snorted laugh. His head is shaved, and he’s just as big as his friend if not bigger.
“Shut it, Crank. Trouble comes in a lot of different packages. You fucking know that.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Crank waves the comment aside. “What’s the deal, honey? You got a man in here?”
“N—not exactly, but are Skyhigh, Dragon and Blackout around? I—”
Riot snaps his fingers and points at me. “That’s why you look familiar. You’re the chick in the corner house.” He looks me up and down. “Nice dress, but you sure you want to party with us? I don’t think it’s going to be the kind of cocktail hour you’re used to.”
The church doors swing open and a woman staggers out. Her brown hair is teased up into an impressive mane, and her tight shirt is half off. A biker is right on her heels. She laughs and makes a run for it in high heels onto the grass nearby. He catches up quickly and throws her over his shoulder, slipping a hand up her short skirt.
“It’s, uh… it’s okay,” I stammer. “I’m not staying. I just wanted to talk to them about…” My brain loses track of what I’m saying as I catch a glimpse of the chaos inside the church. “The noise…”
Crank laughs so hard he can hardly breathe. “Holy shit. Let her in. That’s fucking gold.”
Riot grins like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Go on, then. Let ‘em have it.”