Johnston (Satan Worshippers MC #1) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Satan Worshippers MC Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
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I scrubbed my hand down my face before heading to my office, locking myself inside. I didn’t want to be bothered. I needed time to myself, and I knew the brothers would respect that. And hell, Scorpion and his crew were so used to my temper that it wouldn’t even faze them to see me like this. Scorpion would check in with Blayke before riding out, and he’d connect with me in a few days.

I pulled out the books and buried myself in the numbers in front of me. At least numbers made sense and rarely let me down. And if they did, it was an easy problem to solve.

Unlike the fucking mess I was currently in.

I jerked up to a sitting position, my hand reaching for the gun inside my cut. Someone was banging on the office door and shouting my name. I quickly lurched up from my chair and stormed to the door, unlocking it before I yanked it open. Drew’s blue-gray eyes locked on mine, his jaw clenched.

“We’ve got a fucking situation,” he growled, already turning on his heel and storming up the hall. I quickly followed him, making sure to lock my office door.

What the fuck now? Couldn’t a man get a fucking moment of peace?

The clubhouse was suspiciously empty when we emerged from the hall. Where the fuck was everyone at? Even the club girls were missing. It had never been this silent in here, even when we were all sleeping. Someone was at least always snoring.

Then, I heard it.

“You thought I would just walk out of here without making sure you understood your place?” Wendy bitched. I rushed past Drew and outside onto the lot. Geek and Blayke were blocking Aaliyah from Wendy, and my crazy ass wife was waving a gun around in the air, her finger on the trigger, the safety off.

Fuck.

Trigger and Dom had their guns aimed at her, and Lawson was easing up behind her, most likely to try to disarm her.

“What the fuck did I say?!” I roared, glaring at Wendy. I didn’t dare look at Aaliyah, though I could feel her eyes on me. If I took my eyes off my wife, it could be deadly for any of us standing there, and I wouldn’t risk that. I definitely wouldn’t risk Aaliyah’s life like that. She was the most important person standing on that lot.

“I gave you everything, Johnston, and now you want to divorce me?!” she yelled, ranting about my words to her this morning. “You’re fucking crazy to think I’d let you divorce me and get your bullshit happily ever after with that fucking cunt!”

I stormed over to her, not even giving a shit when she aimed her gun at me, her hand shaking. It was a deadly combination with her finger on that fucking trigger, but I wanted the attention on me. If I could keep her distracted, Blayke and Geek could get Aaliyah in the clubhouse, where she’d be safe.

I could survive a bullet wound. I’d survived many others.

But Aaliyah may not be so lucky.

“Johnston!” Aaliyah screeched. Blayke shouted her name. The scuffle reached my ears, and I glanced their way, finally turning my entire body when I saw what was happening.

She had gotten past them.

I moved to block her, to catch her, to stop her, but I was too fucking late.

Too.

Fucking.

Late.

Wendy screamed and pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed right past my side—fucking heard it as it passed me by. Aaliyah’s body jerked from the impact, and she fell to the ground, her hands going to her abdomen. A blood-curdling scream ripped from her lungs, chilling my bones, echoing and bouncing off the inside of my skull.

Rage pulsed through my veins. Blayke and Geek quickly worked on stabilizing Aaliyah, and I saw Lawson pull his phone to his ear, more than likely calling 9-1-1. I turned and punched Wendy in the face, sending her crashing to the ground. Blood spilled from her lips. I stepped on her hand that was holding the gun, crushing her fingers as I kneeled over her, getting ready to snap her fucking neck, too.

She deserved to pay for this in the deepest pits of Hell.

“Prez!” Trigger roared, gripping the back of my cut and pulling me back. I sneered, swinging on him, but he didn’t back down. He met me with a steely look of his own. “Cops are on the way. You hear me, Prez?” He jabbed a finger against my chest. “You kill her, and you fucking go inside.”

I curled my hands into fists, my chest heaving. Trigger shook me, forcing my eyes on his when I looked back at Wendy’s pathetic, sobbing form. “Prez, Aaliyah needs you. She’s out. There’s too much fucking blood.”

I spun around to face the fucking woman of my dreams, my face paling. She was covered in red—and not the kind of red I liked to see on her. Blayke and Geek were doing everything they could, but Trigger was right.



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