Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
She looks back in the room to check if Callan’s in there. Callan, over six-feet tall and built like a Hemsworth, you’d know if he was in the twenty-by-thirty room.
Way to go, Dad. Snagged a real catch.
“No, sorry. Have you tried his room?”
Thanks, genius.
“I’m heading there next.” A pang of guilt twinges in my gut for my mocking thoughts. It’s not her fault my dad is a pervert and I’m full of anger and frustration. All club sluts aim for the most powerful brothers, hoping to be upgraded to ol’ lady. Little did Claire know, no one would take that spot from my mom. Even if she never stepped foot in this club again or took dad back, Mom was his ol’ lady, forever and always.
“Claire, who the fuck are you talking to?” His gruff voice fills me with warmth and familiarity. He’s a pig to Claire, but I adore the asshole.
“Oh, it’s Kitty. She’s looking for Callan.”
“Well, let her in. You’re not the fucking gatekeeper of my office, bitch.”
Her giggle is a nervous flurry that tinges on her cheeks. “Of course. Sorry.” She widens the door and tucks her long blonde hair behind her ear. It’s almost the exact color of mine. I make a mental note to change that as soon as possible.
Casually entering his office, I make a conscious effort not to touch any surface they could have fucked on. A shudder rattles my bones.
“Hello, darlin’. Where have you been all day? Tim said something about a tattoo. I told him he must be mistaken.” He leans his ass against his desk, squeezing a ball in his fist. Not that he’ll admit it or get a diagnosis, but the man has arthritis in his fingers. They swell and get stiff. Some bumps appeared on his joints about a year ago, but he refuses to go to the doctor or admit those bumps hadn’t been there his whole life. “Kitty, tell me you didn’t get a tattoo at some street parlor.”
“Actually.” I clench my teeth, flashing him the pearly whites. He doesn’t speak, just stares at me with an icy glare. If he were anyone else, I’d shit my pants and run for the door. But he isn’t. Even if I covered myself head-to-toe in tattoos, as long as it made me happy, he’d get over it.
That’s what hurts so much about Cutter.
If he let me speak to my dad, tell him how much I love Cutter and want to be with him, things would be okay. Callan might be butthurt for a while, but he’d get over it. It makes me wonder if he’s using them as an excuse to kick me to the curb. The insecure, paranoid feeling is toxic, choking me from within. I can taste the ash on my tongue. That man is taking up too much of my head space.
I lift my shirt and peel back the saran wrap Wynona put over the two aces inked on my ribcage. Dad sits back in his chair, making it creak with the movement. “It’s super cute,” Claire declares, walking over to my dad, putting an arm over his shoulder.
“Aren’t we done?” he grunts, cutting his gaze to hers. I wince, hating the humiliation on her behalf. Why does he have to be a dick? How would he feel if someone treated me like a slab of disposable meat? Cutter does precisely that.
Turning a brighter shade of red, her throat bobs and lips thin into a tight smile. “I need to go see if Maggie needs help behind the bar. It was good seeing you, Kitty.” She drops a kiss on my dad’s cheek, and he waves his free hand at her like he’s shooing a bug away.
I stick the plastic wrap back down and lower my top. The soft click of the door signals Claire’s departure, and I find myself asking, “Why are you a dick to her?”
“Since when do you care about the club sluts?”
Since I became one for Cutter.
“They’re still people. She chooses to be with you, you could at least treat her better than a transaction of body fluids.”
A crack of a smile tilts his lips. “I like the aces.” His colossal frame unfolds from the chair, the president patch sitting proudly on his cut over his chest. Lifelines web at the corners of his eyes as his smile reaches there. Silver flecks of maturity stand in contrast against his dark hair, almost flickering under the light when he reaches me. Clasping my cheeks in his palm, he raises my face to his, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “Tim also said you were with a guy. Is this what has you pissed off? Do I need to go remove his genitals?”
“God no. Just because I met a guy doesn’t mean I let him in my pants.” Maybe that’s what I need to do to move on from Cutter, but it wouldn’t be with Nicolas.