Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
For the first time in my life, rowdy masses of drunk people don’t make me anxious, and as I watch the crowd mingling, dancing, laughing, and admiring the motorbikes, I kinda love the chaos of it.
When we arrived on our roaring vehicles, I felt invincible. Something clicked in my mind, and I understood why the club means so much to Creep and what it’s like to be part of a fist adorned with knuckledusters. Anyone who dares mess with a Vulture, answers to all of them. The pack will protect its own.
Our arrival was an event. Friendly clubs greeted the Vultures with howls and raised bottles, and guests came to our camp within minutes. Creep might be the quietest of all members of his MC, and no one outright approaches him, but I can’t miss all the curious glances directed at him.
And our joined hands.
No one with a little bit of sense lets their eyes linger on us for too long though. I might have worked on giving his exterior more polish, but while his handsome face might now be visible, his eyes keep scanning our surroundings for threats. A prospect from another club drops his gaze as we pass, and I swear the poor bastard crossed himself.
I probably shouldn’t enjoy that people fear him, but I can’t help myself when it makes me feel so very safe. He’s mine. My protector. And anyone who gives me shit will have to go through him first. Which they won’t, because Creep is a goddamn machine with no qualms about dispensing violence.
If I wasn’t afraid to attract the attention of a very particular man, I’d throw myself into a dance, climb one of the cars and join the howling into the stars, but I keep my head down, chin angled so my face catches enough shadow. If Domino’s here, I can’t risk him spotting me. As confident as I am with Creep as my guard dog, I’d rather rely on his aura alone, because the last thing I want is to get him in real trouble.
A part of me worried he might misinterpret my attempts to remain unseen, but when we reach the back of Prophet’s pickup and I look up, he’s beaming as if it’s prom night and he’s the underdog who’s come to the party with the school’s queen bee.
With a final squeeze of my hand, he joins his brothers in unloading the kegs of beer, liquor bottles, and food, and I step back to avoid being in the way. The girl Rooster brought as his plus-one offers me a beer, but I take a bottle of soda instead and lean back against someone’s car, feasting my eyes on the efficient way my man moves even with heavy boxes.
I pinch myself, because for a moment I worry this is all the hopeless dream of a boy who always believed in people too much, and who settled on men who ended up chewing and spitting him out. But maybe Creep and I aren’t that dissimilar… despite our very obvious differences? At the end of the day, we both long for connection, and once we found it in one another, our lives slotted together like cogs that might just drive both our lives from now on?
How else would this very new thing between us feel so right?
The cool lime drink fizzes on my tongue as I take several gulps, almost emptying the small bottle by the time sharp nails dance down my arm. “I knew it was you!”
The voice is high-pitched and can only belong to a young woman, but the fact that she spotted me in the crowd means so could Domino, and my muscles freeze despite the friendly smile directed at me.
It’s Emi, a long-time client who I convinced to experiment with the hime cut, which has since become her trademark. She’s rocking it now, and while the dark green dye on her sidelocks and bangs has faded, it’s still a beautiful contrast with her thick black hair. She’s wearing an AC/DC T-shirt, which she’s tied on one side to reveal the roses tattooed on her stomach, and the tiniest shorts, which surely appeal to whoever she came here with. She’s petite, but her tastefully enlarged lips and chest provide a focus for male attention, and I feel the echo of heated glances cast at her even now.
“That guy you’re here with,” she starts, leaning her elbow on the hood of the car behind us, “he’s hot.”
Ohh, there’s a but at the back of her tongue, I can feel it. I could just ask what she wants to say but choose not to and finish my drink meeting her eyes.
She exhales, clearly out of patience. “Is he a new daddy in your roster?”
Has it really been only two weeks since he took me away from that small, miserable home that always got too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer? Feels like I’ve known him for so much longer...