Q – Satan’s Fury MC Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
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“Aren’t we all.”

I looked over to Rooster and watched as he swept the last of the debris over in the corner. “You need a hand with that?”

“Nah, I got it.” He motioned his head toward the stairs. “You guys can go on and head out. We’ll catch up with you in the morning.”

“Sounds good.” As Hayes and I started down to the main floor, I told them, “You boys be careful tonight.”

“You know we will.”

After Hayes and I checked in with Guardrail, we said our goodbyes and headed to our bikes. As soon as I turned the key and the engine roared to life, the sound alone made the tension of the day start to subside. It was just me, my bike, and the road winding out before me.

Port Angeles was a beautiful place. It was even more beautiful at dusk when everyone was home and off the road. Being alone out there on the road made me feel like I was the only man on earth. As far as I was concerned, there was no better therapy on the planet.

By the time I made it home, my mind was cleared, and I was ready to call it a night. I grabbed a bite to eat and a hot shower, then spent a couple of hours watching TV. I could barely keep my eyes open when I finally decided to hit the sack. I thought I’d pass out from exhaustion, but the second my head hit the pillow, she was back on my mind.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about those sultry hazel eyes and the way they seemed to cut right through me. The girl played it tough, standoffish, and cold, hoping that no one would see the pain and fear in her eyes. But I’d seen it. This chick had a story—one that haunted her and kept her guarded.

I had no clue what had happened to her, and the way things were going, it didn’t look like I ever would.

JULES

“Please tell me you aren’t wearing that to the party.”

“What?” I looked down at my plaid flannel top and straight-leg jeans, and while it wasn’t exactly sexy, I thought I looked pretty good. “This is perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, if you’re trying to look like a lumberjack.” Caroline marched over to my closet, and after a few minutes of sifting through my clothes, she pulled out an old tank top. “This would look so hot on you. Wear your hair down with a little makeup, and you’re ready to go.”

“I’m not wearing that.” My throat tightened at the thought of anyone seeing my scars. “It’s too cold.”

“It’s a bonfire, Jules. You’ll be plenty warm.” She walked over to me and held the top up to my chest. “You gotta show off those assets, girl. You’ll have all the guys drooling over you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“It’s true!” She playfully bumped her hip against mine. “You’re one hot momma.”

“Ha! No, I’m not! I’m the farthest thing from hot.”

“You’re crazy! You’re absolutely gorgeous.” She sounded so sincere as she said, “How can you not know that?”

“I guess you can say it’s been ingrained in me.”

“Well, that’s just ridiculous. You’re smoking hot.” She smiled as she held up the tank top and said, “You’d know that if you’d just take a little risk now and then.”

“I can’t wear that top, Caroline. I won’t.”

“But why?”

I don’t know what came over me, but I started unbuttoning my flannel. Once I got midway down, I slipped it down over my shoulder, revealing the ridged scars on my back. As soon as she saw them, Caroline gasped, “Oh, my God, Jules. What happened?”

“My father happened.” I pulled my shirt up as I told her, “He wasn’t exactly a good man.”

“He did that to you?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” I’d already told her some of the horror stories about James and how I’d moved here to get away from him. I hadn’t planned on ever telling her about my father, but that didn’t stop me from saying, “He had a bit of a temper and liked to take it out on my mother and me.”

“Oh, girl. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

“Well, I feel terrible. I wish you would’ve told me sooner.” She walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Did it happen often?”

“It happened enough.” I don’t know what it was about Caroline, but I felt like I could open up to her without judgment or ridicule—something I desperately needed. I hadn’t shared my past with anyone, and it felt good to tell her, “But over time, I learned to take myself out of the moment. I’d dream of the day I’d be able to get away from him, and I’d finally be free.”



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