Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Me and Caroline both muttered, “Yes, Your Honor,” before Lawdawg took us each by the upper arm and escorted us back outside and to his waiting truck. It was emblazoned with “Sheriff” on the side and a light bar with blue and white lights on top.
“Great,” I muttered. “The fucking Lawdawg mobile.”
“Get in the back and stay put. Both of you.” He remotely started the vehicle before unlocking the doors for us. Of course, he put us in the back seat where we couldn’t get out once the door was shut.
“What a stick in the mud.” Linnie crossed her arms over her chest, indignant. But I could also see her relief. She was likely sweating over dodging a bullet with the whole jail thing.
“I’m sorry, Linnie,” I said softly. “I know you’re not as comfortable with breaking the rules as I am. Yet I keep dragging you into my messes.”
“What? Sonya, no! You’ve been my best friend since the first day I met you. Sure, you push my boundaries, but we never hurt anyone or anything and it’s all in good fun. Embarrassing for some, maybe, but never maliciously.” She gave me a bright smile. “Besides, think how boring people’s lives around here would be if not for us.”
I reached out to grasp Linnie’s hand. “Thanks for being such an awesome friend, Caroline.”
“You’re an awesome friend too, Sonya. Now, I have a serious question.”
Nodding, I met and held Linnie’s gaze. “Why are they separating us?”
“Exactly. They already know what we did. Why would they need to separate us?”
Lawdawg opened the door, bracing one arm on the open door, the other on the door frame. “We’re separating you because you’re not going to the same place.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you have this truck bugged?”
“Of course. Everything inside these four doors is recorded. It’s all for safety purposes. But it comes in handy when two brats think they need to get their stories straight.”
“For the love of God, Grady! You already know what we did! If we’re going separate places, where are we going?”
“Well, she” -- he nodded at Linnie – “is going home with her mother. Like I said.”
“And me?”
This time, his smile was the smile of a man who was about to see justice served in the most satisfying way. Not gonna lie, the look made me nervous. “You’re going with him.” He stepped back and jerked his head to the left, indicating the straight stretch of US 27, leading from one end of town to the other.
Two blocks down, I saw a big, black Harley heading our way. Even from this distance the roar of the pipes was distinctive. And I knew the sound well. A dense trail of smoke had covered the four lanes from where one of the residences was burning a small pile of brush. Just like in the movies, the big Harley I’d known was attached to that rumble parted the haze with smoke circling behind him like a jet trail. The man sitting on the bike was just as intimidating as the machine. All the scene needed was a slow-motion sequence and it would be perfect.
Archangel. He was the most unflappable man I’d ever met. There was an eerie calm surrounding him most of the time. Sure, he laughed and had a good time like anyone else, but he was the peacemaker. The person everyone called when they didn’t want El Diablo or El Segador to take up the cause. More than once, I’d heard Archangel make the statement you knew when you had a successful negotiation because neither party was completely satisfied. He didn’t play favorites, and he was always fair, but the man had a giant stick up his ass the size of a telephone pole.
He crossed two lanes of traffic at the corner to pull into the parking lot of the courthouse, not even hesitating at the light as he did. Brazen, considering where he was, and that three deputies and two city cops were sitting close by. He parked the bike in front of Lawdawg’s truck before turning it off and putting down the kickstand. A long, thickly muscled leg was lifted over the seat as Archangel dismounted and walked toward the truck and Lawdawg.
I knew there was drool dripping from the corner of my mouth, but I didn’t fucking care. Archangel was the most perfectly built man I’d ever had the pleasure of viewing. No matter how many times I saw him, he was still awe-inspiring. If anyone saw me, all I would have to do was point at the man and any red-blooded woman on the planet who looked would understand. He wore snug, black jeans. The material clung to his hips and thighs in all the right places. He didn’t have on a shirt, but his plain leather vest covered most of his rippled torso. Which left his arms bare, and a sliver of chest and abdomen showing when he walked. Muscles and thick veins roped his arms. Tattoos peeked from his vest and crept up his arms. His salt-and-pepper hair was over his collar but artfully shaggy, and his beard was full and neatly trimmed. Mirrored aviator sunglasses rounded out his outfit. The man rocked it like the ultimate bad boy.