Controlled Burn Read Online Lani Lynn Vale (Kilgore Fire #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Kilgore Fire Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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A pink one.

The tears that I’d been holding at bay only by sheer force of will threatened to spill over, and she left without another word.

Obviously, she could see when a man was about to lose it.

I stood up and walked to the potted plant in the corner of the waiting room.

The one I’d become intimately acquainted with in the last hour and a half.

With my hands placed flat against the wall, I bent over and tried to breathe through the tears, but something was blocking my airway, making it nearly impossible to draw in a breath.

Something big slammed down on my shoulder, and I turned only my head as a breath tore into my lungs.

Wolf was standing there, his own eyes red rimmed.

He’d been through just as much hell these last three months as I had. We’d become as close as friends could possibly become.

“What’d she say?” he wanted to know.

I held out the Polaroid—a picture I hadn’t realized I was still clutching—and showed him the photo that the nurse had given me. His eyes warmed.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered gruffly.

I nodded, my lungs screaming for air now.

“Breathe, motherfucker,” Wolf said, slapping me on my back. “Just think about all the boys you’re going to be beating back with a stick when she turns eighteen!”

A laugh burst free of my throat, and the breathing thing became easier after that.

“I’m going to fucking ruin them if they hurt her,” I promised him.

Wolf’s grin was almost contagious.

“You’ll, of course, have to get in line. It’s an uncle’s duty to do the dirty work,” he informed me seriously.

I snorted and moved until I ass planted into the nearest chair, my hands going up to my hair to fork through the way too long locks.

My hair was nearly brushing the collar of my shirt, and had July not adored it long, it would’ve all been shaved off quite a few days after I reconnected with her again months ago. Now it was so long it was indecent, and I couldn’t find it in me to care.

In fact, other than the basic hygiene of showering, brushing my teeth and using deodorant, I hadn’t done a damn thing when it came to my appearance in so long I couldn’t even tell you what I looked like anymore.

“What about July?” Wolf asked carefully.

“The last I heard, she was still in surgery. The old chick up front is tired of me asking,” I told Wolf. “You go ask for me.”

Wolf got up and did just that, and my eyes caught on the men across the room.

The entire waiting room was filled with my family—firefighters.

Then there was the new addition of six men dressed in their leather cuts declaring them members of The Uncertain Saints MC.

They all looked grim, and it wasn’t helping me or my optimism.

Wolf’s face as he came back, however, did.

“She’s out of surgery and they’re taking her to recovery now,” Wolf said the second he got back to me.

I stood up so fast that the blood rushed from my head to my lower limbs, making me dizzy.

“Did they say…” I started.

Wolf shook his head.

“No,” he said. “They didn’t say anything other than that she made it.”

I nodded and made my way to the old chick at the front who’d been staring at me with apprehension all night.

Although that might be due to the fact that I had July’s blood covering my skin.

I hadn’t been able to force myself to wash it off.

Not even when I saw the reactions I was getting from everybody.

“Can I go back?” I asked her.

She nodded.

“Your wife is in recovery. That’s the fourth floor. When you go to those elevators, hit the four button and turn to the right,” she said shakily.

I nodded and turned to leave, not stopping to say any niceties to any of the men who’d waited there with me for the past four hours. I couldn’t talk yet. They understood.

I hadn’t realized I’d even gotten to the elevator, let alone gotten inside of it, until the doors were closing.

Luckily, in my fucked up state, I’d pressed the right buttons, and arrived at the nurses’ station within five minutes of leaving the waiting room.

None of the nurses looked up.

Not one of the five of them.

“Excuse me,” I growled when impatience got the better of me.

The one closest to me, as well as the other four, snapped their heads up and came alert the moment the words left my lips.

My voice was raw and grave as I spoke, and I vaguely wondered whether my voice was going to stay like this.

One lonesome night, a few months past, I’d fallen asleep for once, but I’d woken up in a pool of my own sweat and tears. I’d been screaming, with visions of July’s mutilated body being the topic of my dreams.



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