Page 167 of Beautifully Reckless

The property sits tucked behind others, surrounded by thick pine trees, hidden well from both the road and neighbours.

The only sign that place now belongs to Southern Sadists is the two burly ruffians flanking the entrance.

Knowing who we are, they wave us through, and we follow the extra long tree lined driveway until we hit a clearing, where a small pile of rubble rests in the middle of a wide patch of dirt. That was obviously where the main house used to be, now nothing but a haunting memory.

Off to the side stands an old barn, far more weathered than mine. The doors are thrown open, and a group of my club brothers are inside working with timber and saws.

Pulling up our rides, we stretch once we dismount before getting bombarded with club brothers wanting to tell us something about our new home, or to ask for help with something.

After a few minutes, I manage to step away, leaving JD to chat with them, and I open my phone to see a message.

Angel

I think little zucchini did a somersault in my stomach!

A grin spreads across my face, loving that she shared that with me, but also hating that I missed that.

Ringo

Maybe you have a future Olympic gymnast growing inside you.

Angel

Maybe…

You arrived safely?

Ringo

Yes, Angel. I’m safe at the new compound.

I spin around, holding up my phone with the camera open, and snap a picture of my ugly mug and some of my club brothers working in the background.

I’m too fucking old for that selfie shit, but I know it will make her smile, so I send the fucking thing.

It takes a moment to send, but when it does, another message instantly pops up.

Angel

Look at you! Sending me a selfie!!

I miss you already.

Fuck. I miss her too, and I’m about to tell her as much when a photo comes through and I nearly drop my fucking phone.

Fucking hell.

There on the screen is my Angel, laying back in my bed, a sheet just barely covering her nipples as she stares at the camera.

I hit call and it rings once before connecting.

“You’ve called Angel’s, where we aim to please by letting our devil out.”

A deep growl rumbles past my throat, and Abbey giggles on the other end.

“You’re playing with fire, Angel.”

“Am I? Whoops. My bad.”

---