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Apparently, she’d helped subdue a combative patient and had gotten an elbow to the cheek for her trouble. He’d flat out told her that she was too small to be doing stupid stuff like that, and she’d reminded him that she was working and wasn’t allowed to make the decision ‘not to help.’

Whatever the problem had been, the thought of her being in trouble at work and not being able to handle the situation was extremely unsettling for me.

It was even more unsettling that I gave a shit.

I shouldn’t be paying so much attention to another man’s wife.

Which was why I practically yanked my gaze away from the eyes that were on my mind way too often and headed inside without another glance.

But did that stop me from peering out my kitchen window an hour later? No.

And the hour after that?

Again, no.

I was all too aware of exactly how long she was out there, and I wasn’t too happy about it.Chapter 5Of course, I speak my mind. My head would explode if I kept all this bitching to myself.

-Coffee Cup

Slate

“I’m not too sure what you want me to do,” I admitted to the man that had walked straight up to me and offered me a job.

He was also the father of my cute little married neighbor.

A cute little neighbor that had turned the sprinklers on the two of us.

Luckily Bayou had been at his bike getting some paperwork for me at the time, otherwise he’d have been just as wet as Max and I had been.

Max Tremaine. One of the co-owners of Free Custom Motorcycles.

Max also had a little side business going on that was much more lucrative—at least for everyone involved but them.

A few years ago when I’d been approached by Max—who’d visited me at the pen—I hadn’t known what to expect. Bayou had vouched for him, as had a few of my contacts. But it wasn’t until I really saw the difference that they made that I finally realized that Free was an organization that I really wouldn’t mind sticking my neck out for.

And sticking my neck out for them had happened quite a few times in the years that I’d been helping them.

It’d also cost me a few months extra time inside due to a little favor that I was working on for them.

I was happy to leave that joint—no doubt about it—but I was also kind of unsure about what I would be leaving behind.

Though, Max had assured me that Tray could take up the mantle where I’d left off.

And it wasn’t that I was doubting that the kid could do it. I was doubting that he’d stay alive while doing it.

“I want you to work with me,” he paused. “For me. Instead of with me. Whatever. It’s time that fresh eyes started working this business. And you have another member already here to help you situate yourself and find your place.”

He gestured at Hoax, who’d arrived not long after the sprinkler incident had happened.

I didn’t know Hoax well.

I knew Bayou. I knew Rome.

However, in my time on the inside, while apparently I’d been ‘patching in’ according to Bayou, I’d never seen the rest of the brotherhood.

Sure, I’d seen them after I got out.

There were times that they all met at a restaurant in town and we all shot the shit.

However, I wasn’t ‘in’ just yet.

Not all of them trusted me, and Hoax was one of them.

Though I had a feeling that was his military background, and his suspicious nature, coming out in him.

I honestly didn’t blame him, though.

I was an ex-con. I was also not the most approachable of men.

I didn’t go out of my way to make myself known to them, either.

I hadn’t really wanted to be in a motorcycle club.

But Bayou and Rome had pulled me into the fold, practically kicking and screaming, and I’d had no other choice but to go with the flow.

I’d yet to put the ‘cut’ on, either.

And in everything that I’d done, that was likely the most suspicious—at least to the MC brothers.

I was too used to being a loner, though.

It wasn’t like I could put that vest on and become a different person.

“Why me?” I asked.

Max rolled his eyes.

“You don’t think you did much, but you did,” Max began. “Two years you informed for us. Stuck your nose into business that you didn’t have to, and whether you want to think it or not, that was a big fucking deal. We know that it’s every man for himself in prison.”

I didn’t say anything to that.

“Just fucking take the job,” Hoax grumbled. “What’s it going to hurt? Not to mention, you sit on your ass all day and live off your dead fiancée’s money. That’s got to burn.”

I turned only my head and stared at the man.

His words angered me, but I’d be damned if I allowed him to see that they did.

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