Page 81 of Beautifully Reckless

“She’d loveyouto watch me fuck her, though.”

A strangled gasp escapes Abbey’s lips as I pull back, smirking at her stunned expression.

“There are snacks in the cupboard,” I say casually like I wasn’t just talking about fucking a toy in front of her. “Cold drinks in the fridge. I’ll restock it later and give this place a clean since it’s been left untouched for nearly six weeks.” I pick up the sleeping bags and clothes again, straightening, my eyes lingering on her beautiful face. “In the meantime, settle in. Have a bath. Take a nap. You can relax here, Angel. You’re safe.”

She nods, not saying a word as she stares at me, so I shoot her a wink and haul arse out of there before I give in and strip her bare and eat her cunt for fucking lunch.

I leave out the back door, dodging my ma and sisters. I need a fucking minute so I can switch gears and deal with MC business.

“Update?” I call as I step into the barn, the aircon already on, the chill prickling over my skin.

From the outside, this place looks like a regular barn. Maybe a place for livestock. But inside, it’s a biker’s paradise.

I lived out here while the house was being built, back before the fucking pandemic shut the world down. The barn is fully equipped, has a number of small bunk rooms, which have on occasion lodged some of my club brothers.

When the lockdowns first started, some of the Southern Sadists hunkered down here, but I wasn’t a fan of my ma witnessing my club’s chaos. Doxies, booze, and club brothers with zero shame.

Once restrictions lifted, Smitty made it his mission to make sure we were never separated again which is when the Western became our shared home.

The truth is, living twenty-four seven at the club isn’t my thing.

Yeah, they are my family, but I’m a solitary bastard. I like space and privacy.

But given the situation, and the fact I didn’t have an old lady or kids to keep me away, I couldn’t fucking refuse.

How would that look to my club brothers? To our associates?

“Cops are raiding the Western now.”

JD’s voice comes from behind the bar, and I veer that way, watching him swig on a beer.

“Fuck,” I snap. “On what grounds?”

“Amber alert.”

I freeze mid-step. “What the fuck do you mean, Amber alert?”

JD frowns. “You know… a kid’s been taken.”

“I know what an Amber alertis, JD. I’m asking what the fuck it’s got to do with us?”

I toss the things in my arms onto the old black leather couch and approach the bar.

“They are looking for, and I quote, a young, underage missing teen. Abbey Delaney from Fox Pines.”

“The fuck! She’s not underage.”

“You sure? Could she be lying?” JD arches a brow, and I slam my fucking fist down on the counter.

“She’s not fucking lying!”

Even as I say it, the doubt creeps in.

I haven’t exactly seen her birth certificate or driver’s licence.

“Fuck,” I mutter, yanking my phone from my pocket and calling the burner Lexi has.

It rings twice before it picks up and Lexi’s anxious voice meets my ears.

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