Broken Crescent (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Kathryn Thomas
leave me here, and I’m not going to come with you. So, either you’re waiting in the car like a kid, or you get out and come party with me! Come on, the night is young! And, I don’t want you to get old waiting for me, so get out of this stupid car!”
Bionca yelped, as her fingers got pinched under the handle. She yanked away her hand with a frustrated growl. Afia guiltily unlocked the doors and slowly climbed out. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, and you owe me big time!”
“You’re welcome,” said Bionca. “I promise you’re going to enjoy yourself. You just have to trust me.” They strutted across the parking lot to The Wisecrack, Bionca in the lead and Afia dragging reluctantly behind. Afia made a whining noise and shook her body like a petulant five-year-old.
The building looked exactly the same as the last time they had come, with rundown siding and the aluminum roof with the name of the establishment in red paint. The same opaque windows stared blankly back at them, hiding what was inside. The motorcycles were the same, and the cars looked the same. Even the people lingering around outside looked the same. Afia had realized where they were going as soon as Bionca, who had insisted on driving, had turned off the main highway. They were back at the place where all the madness had begun, where she had met Sam.
“I don’t want to go in there!” Afia stalled in the parking lot. Bionca tugged her by the hand.
“You do! I know you do, because what else would you have to do tonight if not this? Do you really want to sit at home alone another weekend? Don’t make me drag you kicking and screaming. People are watching us,” Bionca said in a stage-whisper, loud enough for the people watching to hear. Afia colored in embarrassment, seeing she was right. There was a crowd of people at the door staring curiously at the two indecisive girls haggling under the streetlamp.
Afia almost had to laugh at herself for her antics. Bionca wrapped her arm around Afia’s shoulders and gently, but firmly, pushed her toward the entrance. Afia had chosen dark denim jeans and long sleeved kiwi green shirt with a gray hijab, and she hadn’t come dressed to impress. Bionca sported a miniskirt and tank. They couldn’t have been more different. “Bionca, how could you do this to me?” Afia whispered, getting distressed as they neared the door. “What if he’s in there?”
“People break up every day and survive, remember? You’ll be fine.”
Afia groaned, shrinking into herself. “This can’t be happening.”
CHAPTER 3
They got past the bouncer and into the crowded club where the weekend regulars were already going strong. The club’s layout included a handful of tables positioned to the right of the entrance. Further inside, the space was wide open. Then, to the left, was the bar. At the back of the club, there was a makeshift stage that wasn’t in use on this night.
It was nine o’clock at night, and the dance floor was packed with women in tight, revealing clothes and men enjoying the temptation. Instead of live music, the DJ was playing a mix of popular and alternative music with a little country-pop thrown in for kicks.
Afia tentatively stepped across the hardwood floor, making her way to a table. She was sure Bionca would disappear off to the bar or the dancefloor, and she was surprised to glance back and find her friend following her. “Just to make sure you don’t try to escape,” Bionca said with a grin. She had to shout over the sound of the music. They pushed past a throng of folks congregating in the middle of the walkway and took seats at the bar height tables at the side of the club where Afia felt most comfortable, away from the crush and press of bodies.
A server made his way over to them at Afia’s beckon. She remembered that was how Sam had gotten the guy’s attention the last time. When Bub drew closer, his eyes
Bionca yelped, as her fingers got pinched under the handle. She yanked away her hand with a frustrated growl. Afia guiltily unlocked the doors and slowly climbed out. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, and you owe me big time!”
“You’re welcome,” said Bionca. “I promise you’re going to enjoy yourself. You just have to trust me.” They strutted across the parking lot to The Wisecrack, Bionca in the lead and Afia dragging reluctantly behind. Afia made a whining noise and shook her body like a petulant five-year-old.
The building looked exactly the same as the last time they had come, with rundown siding and the aluminum roof with the name of the establishment in red paint. The same opaque windows stared blankly back at them, hiding what was inside. The motorcycles were the same, and the cars looked the same. Even the people lingering around outside looked the same. Afia had realized where they were going as soon as Bionca, who had insisted on driving, had turned off the main highway. They were back at the place where all the madness had begun, where she had met Sam.
“I don’t want to go in there!” Afia stalled in the parking lot. Bionca tugged her by the hand.
“You do! I know you do, because what else would you have to do tonight if not this? Do you really want to sit at home alone another weekend? Don’t make me drag you kicking and screaming. People are watching us,” Bionca said in a stage-whisper, loud enough for the people watching to hear. Afia colored in embarrassment, seeing she was right. There was a crowd of people at the door staring curiously at the two indecisive girls haggling under the streetlamp.
Afia almost had to laugh at herself for her antics. Bionca wrapped her arm around Afia’s shoulders and gently, but firmly, pushed her toward the entrance. Afia had chosen dark denim jeans and long sleeved kiwi green shirt with a gray hijab, and she hadn’t come dressed to impress. Bionca sported a miniskirt and tank. They couldn’t have been more different. “Bionca, how could you do this to me?” Afia whispered, getting distressed as they neared the door. “What if he’s in there?”
“People break up every day and survive, remember? You’ll be fine.”
Afia groaned, shrinking into herself. “This can’t be happening.”
CHAPTER 3
They got past the bouncer and into the crowded club where the weekend regulars were already going strong. The club’s layout included a handful of tables positioned to the right of the entrance. Further inside, the space was wide open. Then, to the left, was the bar. At the back of the club, there was a makeshift stage that wasn’t in use on this night.
It was nine o’clock at night, and the dance floor was packed with women in tight, revealing clothes and men enjoying the temptation. Instead of live music, the DJ was playing a mix of popular and alternative music with a little country-pop thrown in for kicks.
Afia tentatively stepped across the hardwood floor, making her way to a table. She was sure Bionca would disappear off to the bar or the dancefloor, and she was surprised to glance back and find her friend following her. “Just to make sure you don’t try to escape,” Bionca said with a grin. She had to shout over the sound of the music. They pushed past a throng of folks congregating in the middle of the walkway and took seats at the bar height tables at the side of the club where Afia felt most comfortable, away from the crush and press of bodies.
A server made his way over to them at Afia’s beckon. She remembered that was how Sam had gotten the guy’s attention the last time. When Bub drew closer, his eyes
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