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

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)

Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Seller L. Wilder brings you Wyatt’s book. He was only eight years old when Stitch found him at a local diner and took him under his wing. Now, he’s all grown up, and he has his own story to tell.

We played a game of hide and seek.

I tried to keep her at a distance.
But no matter how high I built my walls, she was always there to seek me out.
She saw me.
She understood me, even when I didn’t understand myself.

She was the one.
I knew it without a doubt.

The time had come for me to stake my claim.
But our game of hide and seek was about to take a turn.
An unknown adversary threatened to put an end to us all.
Now, it was my turn to be the seeker.

The boy in the little red tennis shoes is all grown up, and he has learned a thing or two from Stitch and his brothers. Grab your copy today and catch up with the men of Satan’s Fury MC. Bones is an MC romance with a group of possessive alphas who will do whatever it takes to protect the women they love. No cheating and a HEA. Enjoy the ride!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1. Q


"What's wrong with you?"

"Why do you gotta be so weird?"

"You've always got your face buried in that damn game."

"You need to get in the real world."

"Why can't you just be normal?"

"Why was I the one who had to get a fucking retard for a kid?"

I didn't just hear the words. I felt them. I believed them. I had no reason not to. My father was the one saying them. He was a man I was supposed to love and trust, but sadly, I didn't. I hated him, and I certainly didn't trust him.

My mother didn't either—at least, not like she did.

There was a time when she loved him and believed that she'd found her Mr. Right. Sadly, when I came along, she discovered she was wrong, and that realization brought on a great deal of guilt. Not just for her, but for me as well. She hated that he wasn't the father she thought he'd be, and I hated that having me as a kid was so fucking terrible that it had turned him into an asshole.

Mom held on for years, praying that eventually things would get better, but they never did. In fact, they only got worse, and when their fights became physical, she had no choice but to file for divorce.

That's when things really took a turn for the worse.

My father's fuse became even shorter, which meant there was even more yelling, name-calling, and manhandling. It seemed he was intent on proving that tough love would turn me into a normal kid. Mom could see the emotional damage he was inflicting and feared he'd take things too far.

And he did.

I can’t remember what set him off. I’m sure it had something to do with me spending too much time on my game or the fact that I wouldn’t answer when he spoke, but I'll never forget the look of anger and disgust in his eyes when he grabbed me and started yelling at me.

There was a lot of cursing and belittling, typical bullshit, but this time was different. This time he nearly broke my arm—which was why I ran.

It wasn't an idea I'd come to on my own.

Mom was terrified that dad would take things too far and begged the courts to take away his rights to visitation, but they refused. Knowing there was a good chance that something terrible might happen, Mom suggested that I get away from him if he tried to hurt me and hide out at a nearby diner.

And that's exactly what I did.

I ran with all my might, and when I finally made it to the diner, I found a dark spot next to the parking lot and sat down with my back against the side of the building. I wrapped my arms around my knees and lowered my head, praying it wouldn't be long before my mother found me.

I hadn't been sitting there long when I heard the loud rumble of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. The headlights shone bright, casting away the dark shadows of the night sky, but they only lasted for a moment. Soon, the engine died, and silence fell on the parking lot once again.

My heart started to race when I heard a scuffle of rocks, and the sound only grew louder as someone's boots started walking over to me. Seconds later, I heard, "You alright, kid?"

I didn't answer.

I couldn't.

My mind was too busy trying to make sense of the stranger standing before me. He was a big guy, bigger than any man I'd ever been around, and he had a thick, burly beard and countless tattoos. His large stature alone should've been enough to have me trembling in my Nikes.

But I wasn't scared.

Not in the least.

And that intrigued the hell out of me.

I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know where he was from and what he was doing here at this diner. I wanted to know why he was so big and why he had such a big beard. More than that, I wanted to know why he had come over to check on me.

I don't know how long he stood there studying me with those coal-black eyes, but it seemed like an eternity. He let out a deep breath, and for a moment, I thought he was going to turn and walk away, leaving me alone out there in the dark.

But he didn't.

Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the hard brick wall. He didn't say a word. He simply stood there next to me, and I got the feeling he wasn’t going anywhere. It was like he had it set in his head that he was going to stay there and watch out for me. We both remained painfully silent as I sat curled up in a ball next to him.