Page 63 of Bristol

She grins and pops up off the couch. “I’m just getting started.”

I pop her on the ass as she goes to walk away. She throws a pretend-angry glance over her shoulder before she heads to the bedroom to get ready. I follow her and pull on a pair of blue jeans and change shirts. My wound care nurse will be here tomorrow at ten in the morning to torture me then change my bandages.

Bristol takes a total of five minutes to go from comfy on the couch to looking like she’s going to dinner at a five-star restaurant. Well. Maybe not in a low-cut V-neck and black ripped jeans, but you get the point. Her cleavage is amazing and I want to rip her clothes off and fuck her again right now. I opt out of it because we have shit to do, but God damn, do I want to.

“Are you undressing me with your eyes, Sebastian?” She asks, stepping closer to me. She drags a finger from my chest down to my waistline and chills cover my body from her touch.

“I am,” I say, my voice cracking.

“Good. Keep that energy when we get back home.”

She turns on her heel and leads me out the house. I drive us to the clubhouse and am surprised to find it mostly dead. I guess we will have to get the word out a little more about being open to the public every Tuesday.

Bristol heads to the living room with Kendra and Loretta while I find Mikey, Joey, and Reaper sitting at the bar. Bosco is behind the bar, and there are two independent riders that come out to most of our functions sitting next to Mikey.

“There he is!” Joey cheers when I walk in.

I flip him off then pat him on the back as I walk by.

“Hey, Prez.”

“I would hug ya, but I ain’t trying to hurt ya. You been hurt enough from what I hear.”

“It’s much appreciated.”

I wave at Mikey down the bar who looks like he’s been here for a while. I sit at the open barstool on Reaper’s left, sandwiching him between Joey and me.

“Hey, fucker,” he smiles, patting me on the back.

“Hey, fucker,” I shoot back.

“Got a new lead to tell you about. I tried to call you, but I guess your phone died in the fire.”

I nod. “It did. I was going to go tomorrow to get a new one. It’s so strange not having one. I feel like I’m missing something at all times of the day. It’s fucked up how dependent we are on those little rectangles.”

“You’re telling me. But they are pretty convenient. For instance, in cases like these,” he says, flipping his phone in my direction to see.

There’s a photo on the screen of a man that’s been beaten, gagged, and bound. I recognize the scenery. Reaper’s torture chamber. That’s what I call the sound-proof hideaway in his shop that he uses for this type of shit.

“Who’s that?”

“That, my brother, is the man you’ve been waiting to get your hands on.”

Patrick.

Chapter Nineteen

BRISTOL

Three months have passed since Sebastian’s accident. In that span, I have conquered so many things. I took a driving class and got my driver’s license. I bought a car. I bought Sebastian a new motorcycle since he said his old truck was vintage and perfect and he wasn’t driving anything else. And today, we are closing on a house and getting out of the apartment.

Sebastian found an amazing old house on the beach. Well, across the street from the beach, which still counts as being on the beach for me. Mack is handling all the paperwork and we are almost to her office.

“Are you ready?” He asks, smiling at me from the driver’s seat of his truck.

I nod enthusiastically. “I can’t fucking wait.”

I tap my feet excitedly on the dash and squeal when we park in the parking lot at Mack’s office.

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