Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
B – That is my new protection.
L – I’m going to get myself into trouble, I’ll be right back.
I chuckle and put my phone away.
Her words from earlier ring in my mind as I make my way to my room.
I’ve been back and forth on what my next move should be. Do I just give Western some space? Or do I go all in and finish this, for him, for the club? How will I do that? Where do I even start? Digging further into this mystery is dangerous, and I’m not sure I’ll actually walk out of it alive. That’s a terrifying thought, one that brings me pause.
As for Western, though, he can’t avoid me forever.
Luna is right about that. I don’t have to sit back and accept that he is done. Not after what we’ve shared. I know he has emotion there, and the old Bonnie wouldn’t lie down and just let him get his way with this. He could help me. Together, we could fix this, and maybe, just maybe, move on with our lives. The problem is, he’s not willing to hear me out. He’s so broken and so damaged that his only response to hurt is to shut someone out.
Do I take Luna’s advice?
Do I force my way back in, even if he doesn’t want it?
Exhaling, I lie on my bed.
One thing is for certain, I have to decide soon, because I’m running out of time.
Bill won’t sit back for much longer.
I need to finish this.
“YOU SURE THIS IS A good idea?” Luna asks as we walk through the front gates to the clubhouse a few days later, Remy following behind, his eyes scanning the lot.
I’ve told him that I’m not sitting back when it comes to this, and he told me what I do wasn’t his business, that he was just here to keep me safe. Of course, when Luna heard he was coming, she made it her mission to join us, even taking the shift off work for the night. It’s the biker club’s annual fundraiser—they donate their proceeds to children’s charities—and each year, they make a big difference.
Surely, they can’t tell me I’m not welcome.
It’s open doors, or gates, and that means anyone can come in.
They have an open bar, food, and a big dance floor set up. People come in, they eat, they drink, they buy tickets to win a motorbike, and the club makes a crap ton of money to pass on. It’s the only time the club truly allows outsiders to come in, and I’m more than certain they have made sure there is nothing to find. The main house is locked, securely, and so is Western’s shed down the back. They only open up one area, and the rest is held outside.
Moving through what is already a large crowd, I notice Fury. His eyes flash when he sees me, and he quickly strides through the crowd until he stops in front of me. “I’ll give it to you, woman, you don’t back down.”
“I thought you would have already figured that out by now,” I say, crossing my arms. “You remember Luna, and this is her friend, Remy.”
Remy extends a hand, and Fury takes it, shaking it before moving his gaze back to me. “How’s the leg?”
“It’s fine, I recovered.”
Thankfully, it wasn’t a bad injury. After a few days, I felt a lot better and was able to bear weight on it once more. All the cuts and grazes have healed over and are on their way toward healing.
“Night ain’t goin’ to be happy about you bein’ here.”
“He’ll get over it. Where is the beer?”
Fury gives me a look, but I move past him, holding my head up high. Western might not want to see me, but I’m not giving him a choice. I want to know what the club knows, I want to know if we can recover from this, and I want to bring Bill and whoever he’s working for down so I can be safe again. I can’t do that on my own. I need manpower, and Western is the only manpower I can think of that might just be enough.
Remy and Luna follow me, and we find ourselves a drink. I put some money in the collections tin, doing the right thing and all, and then my eyes scan the crowd for Western. It takes me a minute to find him, but when I do, my heart lurches in my throat. He’s sitting against the back wall, back leaning against it, legs spread as he kicks back, a woman on his lap, her mouth against his neck. His eyes ... they’re on me.
I know what he’s doing, he’s making sure that I’m clear on the fact that he will never take me back, and the more he pushes it, the more frustrated I become. If he doesn’t want me back, then there is nothing I can do about it, but playing games is for children. The very least he can do is have a conversation with me. Remy steps up beside me, and Western’s eyes flash to him, his jaw tightening. Oh, he doesn’t like that? Good.