Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
“What is this?” one of the guys shoving a goat out of our yard asks.
“You’ll find out when you need to,” Harvey says, but I doubt it’s because he’s on my side about this. It’s just club loyalty that demands it.
As soon as we’re all inside and the heavy wooden doors close behind us, that’s another story. Several pairs of eyes turn our way, and my brothers speak before we get a chance to go to our meeting room.
Yeti’s voice is the loudest over several others. “Can I get some answers? What are you doing with this fuck? Don’t you hate his guts? He almost killed you last year. I lost a damn finger in that fire!”
More voices join in, speaking at once and making my head spin. I suppose I’m lucky they don’t have the high-pitch of the cardiac monitor back at the hospital. It was so much easier to hold Clyde’s hand with Prophet as the only witness, but I’m a man of my word. I won’t hide my affection for him when it’s convenient for me. I know how this goes. The guys are out for blood, and once they smell it from Clyde, they’ll be on him like a swarm of piranhas.
Can’t let that happen. This is my club, I started this, and I will protect Clyde.
“And now you’re fine, as am I. We can talk at the table.”
Sad Billy shakes his head. “So what? He can set another bomb here in the meanwhile?”
Prophet rolls his eyes. “Road, leave him here, and let’s go.”
My brothers exchange glances but some of them move their asses toward the meeting room.
I linger behind, not wanting anyone to have solo time with my man before he and I can talk, but when Prophet whistles at me from the doorway, I glance at Clyde, whose face is as bland as unflavored oatmeal with no milk. It’s as if he’s drifting off to the safety of his own mind, and I fucking hate it. I don’t want to leave him here alone when he’s in such a vulnerable state.
“I’ll be close,” I say, trying to reassure him.
“Just… tell them what you need to. Don’t worry about me.”
Like that’s possible.
His eyes are so vacant I want to wrap him up in a blanket and talk so I can find out what’s going on in his head. We barely had a few minutes after I woke up, and then Prophet barged in.
“Don’t be a dumbass,” I say, and it comes out way softer than I intended. I lean in, enfolding him in a hug that fuels my resolve even more. When he wraps his arms around me, I don’t want to go talk to my brothers, but stay behind and hold him for as long as he needs it.
I chose him, and I will stand by it, no matter how fucking scary it is for people to know what he is to me.
Prophet clears his throat, and Clyde pulls away, rubbing his forehead. He surely feels as new to showing a man affection in public as I am, but despite feeling so nervous about this just minutes ago, now I’m proud to show off what a stud I’ve landed. I can only hope he feels the same way about me.
I walk away, but still look back several times, unable to believe he’s actually here, in my clubhouse.
All the other members are already in their seats around our large table and Rooster is allowed in too, standing behind his father. Prophet closes the door behind us. It’s so quiet now, the atmosphere feels eerie, but I choose not to let that sway me and drag my ass to the seat at Prophet’s left. It would serve me to come up with a catchy summary of how I started meeting Clyde Turner in secret, but I didn’t manage in the car, and the seconds remaining to the inevitable confrontation will not be enough. So I breathe in and raise my gaze at everyone.
“Do you want to hear the gist of it in one sentence, or should I go back to where it all started?”
Sad Billy won’t even look at me. “The gist.”
But Yeti pipes up in an instant. “Hell no! I want the soap opera edition.”
Harvey rubs his balding head. “Are you really gay?”
“Wow, if that’s the most important piece of information for you, then maybe it’s not that bad,” I say, but my words are met by scowls. Clearly, it’s too soon for jokes, so I clear my throat, and before any of them can cut in, I tell them the whole damn story, from the exchange with Clyde after the explosion, all the way to yesterday’s disaster. Or was I out for two days? I’m really not sure.
There is a lot I choose not to disclose, since it feels both irrelevant and private, but by the end of the story most of the faces within sight have lost their outright hostility, which is… something, I suppose.