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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And he definitely wasn’t in control of this. This had been sprung on him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed out of here like his feet were on fire.

I sighed and unlocked my phone again, glaring at my empty notifications.

I hated this. He’d been gone a good minute, and I was worried about both him and the club.

What if the cops found something? What if Johnston or one of the other guys got arrested?

My chest tightened at the mere thought of Johnston being arrested. Why did I feel like the world was so against us? And if it was, well, I wasn’t taking a fucking hint. I didn’t give up when I wanted something, and I wanted Johnston.

As long as he would have me, I’d be sticking around.

I just hated that I wasn’t privy to what normally happened in the club. I understood why Johnston kept patched members out of the loop. It protected us and them. If we didn’t know anything, we couldn’t be held accountable. And by not knowing anything, we also couldn’t jeopardize them.

But I also wasn’t stupid. I knew Satan’s Worshippers were one-percenters, and I knew the people they dealt with were just as bad, if not worse. I knew and understood every single member, especially Johnston, would forever be scrutinized by law enforcement officials.

I sighed and locked my phone again before placing it facedown on my lap so I wouldn’t be forced to stare at my blank, black screen. Johnston was probably just busy. He’d reach out when he could. And if he couldn’t… well, I hoped one of the club members would remember me laid up in a hospital bed and would let me know what was going on.

But I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of him not being able to tell me himself. Because if he couldn’t, then that meant he was more than likely locked up.

I refused to think of the other possible outcome.

A light knock sounded on the door, and before I could say anything, it swung open, and Dirk stepped in, quickly pushing the door shut behind him. I tried to move but flinched in pain, sucking in a sharp breath of air. My heart rate picked up on the monitor, and I prayed a nurse would pick up on my distress and come to check on me.

Dirk did not give two shits about me, and that gleam in his eyes told me he sure as fuck wasn’t here to check on me and wish me quick healing.

He was here for revenge, for what he thought I did while we were still together. He wanted me to suffer, even if he didn’t care anything about me.

That made him even more dangerous. He wasn’t a man in love that lost. He was just a fucking psycho.

“Don’t touch that fucking button,” Dirk snarled when I tried sliding my hand over to the red nurse button on my bed. Nausea swirled in my gut. He was holding flowers, but he tossed them onto my bed without a care for the bouquet. “Been waiting for those fucking asshole bikers to leave since I found out you were here.”

I swallowed thickly. Why hadn’t Johnston warned me he was loitering around the hospital trying to see me? I would have been more prepared. Why hadn’t he at least warned the front desk? Did Johnston really think threatening Dirk away from me would make him stay away?

He was fucking stupid if he did.

“You need to leave,” I snapped at him, thankful my voice came out strong. I could see the cruel intent in his eyes, and I was in no condition to fight against him. I was weak and in a lot of pain. There was no way I’d have the strength or mentality to fight him. I wouldn’t be able to see past the blinding pain that I knew would engulf me.

“You ran from my bed and right into his, didn’t you?” he seethed, stepping closer to my bed, anger flashing in his eyes. He leaned over, using the bed to brace himself, and placed his hand right on top of the flowers, crushing them. “You’re mine, Aaliyah.”

“I’m not your anything,” I hissed, anger fueling my fight. Where the hell were the nurses? Why hadn’t anyone noticed I was distressed?

He lurched forward and wrapped his hands around my throat. I choked, reaching up to claw at his hands, but just as I knew it would be, the fight was useless. Pain blinded me when I moved, trying to use my muscles to grip his wrists.

He shook me, and a choked scream ripped from my throat, pain lancing through my abdomen. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I drew blood with my nails, but he was so lost in his rage and jealousy that he didn’t even notice I was making him bleed. He didn’t even feel the pain.



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