Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) Read Online Free Page A

and no one discovers the key. So that brings me to why I’m a bakery owner and not some hot shot doctor, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Being able to help my mom when she needed it meant more to me than my dreams or my demons.
    “So,” Phoebe begins, taking a sip of her drink. “These parties never get old, huh?”
    I laugh, bringing my hazy eyes back to my best friend. I met her in high school before moving to Detroit during much easier times in my life. Frat parties were drag strip races and Phoebe was—still is—the best woman driver in the state. We separated while I was at college, but I always knew I’d be coming back to Westbeach. My mom? Not so much. Since my dad disappeared, she had never been able to face this town again. No matter how much of a drunk my dad was, she still loved him. That’s why I told myself I’d never fall in love young; you’re too blinded by your hormones, and then before you know it, you’re stuck at home with a couple of kids buying cases of beer for your husband every night. No thanks, not for me.
    “Nope, not one bit. So much of our childhood is within these gates,” I say to Phoebe behind a laugh. Phoebe was raised within the MC. Her father was a founding member and her brother is currently a member. She’s Sinful Soul blood and the princess around here.
    “Oh, I know. Until you left for college!” She attempts to evil-eye me.
    “Hey! That was not my fault.” I take another long pull of my vodka, the hot flames from the bonfire cascading off my skin and sending warm zips of electricity gushing through me.
    “I know, I’m sorry. How is your mom anyway?”
    “Meh, she’s…mom,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “She’s much better, though. The cancer has been staying away.”
    “And Millie?”
    I raise the rim of the bottle back to my mouth, swallowing the clear liquid and literally swallowing past the burning sensation it had set alight in my throat. “She’s Millie, playing the good sister in the local Catholic church .” I say the last bit with a posh accent.
    “Fucking Millie,” Phoebe and I mutter together and we both laugh.
    Nette, Phoebe’s other friend, takes a seat down beside us with her drink just as a loud roar of bikes vibrate through the music that was playing.
    “Beast is here,” Phoebe adds casually. 
    I smile, tilting my head, the name piquing my interest. “Beast?” I ask. “I like the sound of that.”
    “Melissa, no. Put your lady bits away.” I pout, taking another sip of my drink. Meadow walks towards us and takes a seat opposite me. She’s another one of Phoebe’s friends; nothing has changed since high school where that’s concerned. Phoebe was the girl every guy loved and every girl envied but secretly wanted to be friends with. I had Phoebe’s chin in my hand, whispering sweet nothings to her, when her eyes darted over my shoulder. “Hey,” she calls, her eyes twinkling with recognition.
    I look over my shoulder, my brain buzzing with the alcohol, and when my eyes clear into focus, my mouth damn near drops to the ground. Two big, burly bikers stand there watching us. The bigger one nudges his head. “Hey, Phoebs.”
    A loud gasp escapes Meadow. I whip my head around to her. “You okay?” I ask just as her head falls, hitting the picnic table, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.
    Did she just faint? Holy shit.
    Before I could get to my feet, Meadow comes back to consciousness, rubbing her forehead. When recognition of what happened comes back to her, her rubbing pauses, eyes going wide. Meadow gets up quickly, so Nettie and I begin to escort her inside the bar. Something had obviously freaked her out. Meadow is quiet, reserved, and holds many secrets deep inside. Phoebe has never told me much about Meadow’s past, but she did say one day: “Think of the worst possible thing you could ever think of, multiply that, and then you’ll get Meadow’s past.”
    Pushing open the door, she shuffles out of our