Broken Wings Read online Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty (Royal Bastards MC – Louisville KY #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Royal Bastards MC - Louisville KY Series by Izzy Sweet
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
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“Any luck on the keys?” I shout to Grem who’s somewhere in the house now.

Thumping down the stairs, he finally responds, “Yeah, I got her purse and keys.”

“Anything else in there?” I ask.

He frowns. “Yeah, her ID.”

“What’s fucking goin’ on?” I ask.

He tosses the purse at me. “Her last name’s Rastov.”

“Find anything else?” I ask.

“Not that I can tell,” he says. “Looks like we smashed her only phone.”

“Fuck,” I grumble.

I bet she she’s not gonna like that one bit.

“Alright, pull the van as close as you can to the front of the house. We’ll get her situated in it and I’ll drive us over to my house,” I say.

Levi is getting ready to snap though; I can see it and feel it. Ain’t no way he ain’t mine with how I can read his emotions just like my own.

Snapping my fingers at Grem as he walks past us, heading for the front door, I say, “Give me your bandana.”

Pulling it from his back pocket, he hands it to me with his eyebrow raised. “What’s up?”

“Levi’s got a job to do,” I say before turning back to Levi.

Touching Levi’s shoulder to get his attention away from Allie for a moment, I say, “You know all those times things were for adults and you didn’t get to help?”

“Yeah,” he says with a sniffle.

“Well, I’m gonna need you to help me like an adult today,” I say and hold up the bandana. “I’m want you to help me keep your momma comfortable.”

“How do I do that?” he asks, and I can tell he’s slowly pulling back from the breakdown he was about to have.

“It’s so hot, she’s sweatin’ a lot. I want you to gently wipe her forehead and face for a bit. Pull all that long hair out of her eyes so it doesn’t get so sticky there. Know what I mean?” I say as I show him what I want him to do.

“I… I can do that,” he says when he takes the bandana out of my hands.

Reaching out to lift him, I ignore his flinch at my touch and sit him on the table next to Allie. “You take care of her like a doctor would, okay?”

Nodding his head seriously, he says, “Okay.”

Thankfully he reigns in those emotions enough to do what I showed him. His hands are so careful as he brushes Allie’s sweaty hair away from her eyes.

Walking away from them to get everything else in order, I hear Poster coming down the stairs with a couple of bags. “This is all they brought. The rest of it is just cleaning supplies.”

I nod my head. I’ve already figured out why there’s not much of their stuff in the house. “This place is a fucking wreck. How’s the upstairs?”

“It’s a fuckin’ pigsty,” Poster says. “The last people that lived here fucked this place up.”

“Pappy will get it back together and cleaned up,” I say, and then motion to the front door. “Let’s get the van fixed up. I need you to hang here with my bike till he shows up. I want this place brought back up to pristine condition. He needs to have it furnished and ready for me and my family to move in soon.”

Nodding his head, he doesn’t even question me on calling them my family. Poster Boy is like that. He doesn’t question things; he just does them. His private life never bleeds over into club business and he stays on target with whatever I ask of him. He’s a soldier. But fuck, he’s creepy as fuck sometimes with how stoic and unflappable he can be. Murder, torture, robbery, and I guess watchin’ kids.

Nothing bothers him, he just does it.

We walk out the front door in time to see Grem straightening away from the window of the sheriff’s car.

Thankfully that’s all we see of the law as soon as Grem shakes the man’s hand. The car slowly pulls out of the driveway and disappears up the street.

Walking toward the driveway, I ask, “Everything good?”

“Yeah, just told ‘em it was club business, but we ain’t killin’ any women here. He’s gonna write it up as a crank call from some shithead teen,” Grem says.

“Good,” I say and point to the minivan. “Y’all get some space open for Allie in the back. I’ll get the kid in his seat then drive us to my house. Poster, you go shoppin’ for kid shit when you’re done here. Get some clothes and toys. Fuck, is he old enough for a PlayStation or whatever?”

Poster Boy shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll get him some little kid games.”

Looking at Grem, I say, “You follow me. I need you to help with getting Allie settled.”

Raising his hand up in a wait a minute gesture, Grem says, “Coy, I was a paramedic, not a doctor. I won’t be able to do much besides tell you she needs a doctor if she don’t wake up.”


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