Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Joaquin has a point,” Preacher agrees. “As much as it pains me to say so.”
Ace nods. “I’ll think on it,” he answers firmly and looks off into the distance. “For now, let’s just fucking relax.” His shoulders fall in what looks like exhaustion, and then he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“If burning Nogales’s shit down won’t get him to show his face, maybe holding on to this guy will draw him out.”
Dix backs up Ace. “I’m not a man to turn down a good time. If our Prez says eat, drink, and be merry, then that’s what the fuck we’re going to do. Nogales will still be a pain in our ass tomorrow.” He turns to me. “And you can still kill that asshole tomorrow. Maybe.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t want to kill him, but I don’t want any loose Iron Kings ends. It’s a matter of need, asshole.”
They all laugh, and Coop claps me on the back. “Sounding like a real serial killer, brother. I don’t want to. I need to,” he says in a mocking tone. “Classic.”
I roll my eyes and enjoy the shit my brothers are giving me as we head across the parking lot back to the bar. “What the fuck is going on,” I ask as we step inside to find the music blasting, girls dancing together in the middle of the floor, and Willow sitting too fucking close to Tank. “Willow?”
She grins and waves.
“Uh-oh,” Shades mumbles loud enough for me to hear over the music. “Somebody’s jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I growl and march over to the lovebirds. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“Tank is inking me,” Willow says easily. “It’s the start of a sleeve, I think. If my arm ever stops hurting.”
A tattoo. She’s getting a fucking tattoo, and Shades is right. I’m fucking jealous. “Dammit,” I growl and turn away, making a beeline for the bar. “Whiskey and beer, please.”
“Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” Stella says.
“Nope,” I growl and knock back the shot, tapping the bar to signal for another.
“Hey, what the hell was that?” Willow shoves my back, and I nearly spill my drink.
I turn with a blank expression on my face. “What the hell was what?”
She gets in my face and examines it closely as if she can see all my secrets, which I know she can’t.
“Oh. My. God.” She shakes her head with a laugh. “You’re jealous. You walked away because you’re pissed.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
She shrugs. “Okay, fine. Then I won’t let you see my brand-new tattoo. Have a good night, Joaquin.” She saunters off, hips swaying seductively, enticing me to follow her.
And I do because, apparently, I am a glutton for fucking punishment.
“Willow,” I call just before she pushes open the door that leads to the back patio area. “Hey, wait up.”
She turns with a sassy expression on her face. “For what?”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her honestly. “There might be some truth to what you said, all right?”
She lets out a sexy laugh that wakes up my cock. “Good to know.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “It is. You’re always so stoic, except when you’re fucking me. Now I know you care.”
I do, dammit. “And?”
“And,” she repeats slowly. “It’s something else I know about you.”
“What else do you want to know, Willow?” She’s not wrong. She told me all about her life with her mom, her pops being locked up, and I haven’t shared shit.
Not that I want to.
“I want to know whatever you want to tell me, Joaquin, but let’s start with how you ended up here.” She motions to the clubhouse, but I know what she’s really asking.
“Fuck. You wanna talk about that?”
“I do. Spill it.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I was a smart-ass gangbanger in my younger days. Did some time behind bars, and when I got out, I wanted no part of the banger lifestyle.”
I laugh when I think about it. How absurd it probably sounds to her.
“So, how’d you get here with the Reckless Souls?”
“It started out as just a job doing what I do best. Fixing cars, bikes, well, anything, really. Somehow that turned into me being a prospect and then getting patched.”
Her smile is affectionate, and then a laugh explodes out of her. “I gotta tell you that I’ve watched all kinds of biker shows and movies, and I’ve never heard of a gangbanger becoming a biker.”
“Well, now you have. It’s no big deal.”
“Okay, so one more question. Why did MC life appeal more to you than the banger life?”
“Damn,” I sigh and shake my head at her. “That’s a good fucking question.” I don’t share my story with women, so her question catches me off guard. “The banger life wasn’t for me because it’s all about showing how tough you are, which means bullying and victimizing. That ain’t me. I mean, the choice was to join or be on the wrong side of ’em, so it was an easy choice at sixteen.”