AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It might make us feel better.
There wasn’t any “us.”
You’ve been saying that since it happened.
Nope. Not going there.
“I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Phyllis waved me off. “Next!” Her voice carried across the crowded waiting room.
I guess she dismissed me.
With a sigh, I stomped around the security guard with the puffed gut, who smelled like Fritos, and exited the emergency room. Halfway across the lot to my Harley, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Yanking it free, I glanced down at the screen.
Maddog.Finally.
I swiped across to answer. “Bro, what the fuck?”
The rumble of his bike almost drowned his words. “Meet me at Lone Mountain.”
Before I could reply, he hung up. Fucking hell.
Blowing out a breath in frustration, I didn’t bother to text or call him back to let him know about my blood-stained clothes. He’d see them when I arrived. I took the time to wash my hands in the hospital bathroom after the staff took the injured girl I brought in, but I hadn’t had time to change yet.
Cool wind teased the back of my neck as I left the parking lot and rode to meet Maddog. He hadn’t always gone by that name. When we were kids, I knew him as Flint Shepherd. But it had been years since I called him Flint, or he addressed me as Balen. Our road names were simple. The same ones we earned kicking ass as Marines and originated back in boot camp.
Maddog leaned against his bike as I parked beside him, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His dark gaze swept over me as I cut the engine. A smile twitched his lips before he inhaled smoke and flicked ash from the tip.
“Whatever you’re about to say, fuck off,” I growled as I kicked down the stand on my Harley.
He snickered. “Mad I kept you waitin’, honey?”
I lifted my middle finger and flipped him off. “What took you so long?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but someone else spoke first.
“You smell like old pennies.”
I turned to the guy who seemed to emerge from the shadows. Half a black mask covered the side of his face. He wore a black hoodie and dark jeans, seamlessly blending in with the dark end of the lot where the bulb had burned out in the light pole.
I caught the cut he wore and two patches. One read SGT AT ARMS and the second read MANIC.
“That happens when someone bleeds all over you,” I replied, heavy on the sarcasm.
Manic snorted. “You rough her up?”
“Fuck no,” I spat with disgust. “I don’t beat on women.”
He nodded. “Good. Then we won’t have an issue since you’re my new enforcer.”
I tilted my head to the side, wondering why he kept his face hidden. “What’s with the mask?”
“I like to play dress up,” he deadpanned.
I like this sarcastic fucker.
