JUSTIFIED (Motorcycle Club Romance) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Brynn Bekkwith
I hadn’t yet felt like exploring the second floor of the old house. I wasn’t sure what I’d find or how I’d be able to handle any additional off the wall discoveries.
Eventually I dozed off. When I came to, the sun was beginning to set. In the background of the silence of the house, I heard rumbling. It sounded like it was coming from outside. A cloud of dust zipped past the road and a sleek silver Cadillac turned into our driveway.
My heart began to race. My hands shook at the thought of having to touch the gun Ash left for me. I tried to play out multiple scenarios in my head. I tried to think of places in the house for us to hide.
I heard a car door. My heart pounded in my ears now. I grabbed Tuck and went into the kitchen to look for the gun.
There was a rap at the door. It didn’t sound like a scary, heavy type of knock. It sounded more like a gentle, I’m-a-stranded-traveler-and-I-need-help kind of knock. I sat Tuck in the highchair and peered around the corner to get a good look at the stranger at the door. I remembered what Ash said about the special coating on the windows.
Standing at the front door was a woman who looked to be about my age, if not a little older. She wore dark jeans and an ivory cashmere sweater. Her thick, dark hair was pushed back with the help of some oversized, black sunglasses that rested on top of her head. She seemed completely harmless. Ash would kill me if he knew I was deeming someone safe just by looking at them, but she was very nicely dressed. And she drove a Cadillac. She didn’t look like someone who ran around with a rag tag group of rebel bikers.
She knocked on the door again. I reached for the door handle then stopped myself. She gave up and walked back to her car, stopping first to stare at the house one more time.
Jilted, I returned to check on Tuck. He was happy and oblivious in his highchair, elated to see me. I vowed that things would return to normal right then and there. I refused to live these weeks or months in pure fear. I would take safety precautions, but I would not live this period in my life at the mercy of the things of which I knew nothing. I refused to allow my mind to play tricks on me, at least if I could help it.
“Are you hungry, Tucker baby?” I said, in my happiest mommy voice.
He squealed and squirmed in his one-year-old body.
I prepared his cereal and filled a sippy cup with milk from the stocked refrigerator. Once Tuck had been fed, I fixed myself a bowl of soup from the cupboard.
We retired to the living room, where I popped in a DVD to help us both fall asleep. I was aiming for an 8:00 bedtime. I just wanted to sleep away this little extended vacation. If I slept from 8pm to 9 or 10am every day, my days would fly by. I could cope with that.
My wish inevitably came true, as we drifted off to sleep with the dull glow of the TV in the background and awoke the next morning to the sound of songbirds outside the sunroom windows. My pajamas stuck to my sweaty, damp skin. I blamed it on the leather chair. That or I’d had a nightmare. As I wrapped my arms around Tuck and peeled myself off the chair, I couldn’t help but notice how hot Tuck was too. I wondered if the sun had been shining in the windows on us while we slept that morning, but the sun was on the opposite side of the house. Tuck’s cheeks were ruddy and he began to fuss.
I grabbed the thermometer from his diaper bag and took his temperature. 104.1. I began to panic. I gave him liquid fever reducer and grabbed the prepaid cell phone to try and call Ash. As soon as the phone powered on my worst fears were confirmed. No signal. I carried the phone to every corner of the first floor, praying for at least one bar. I ran up the creaky wooden staircase to the second floor, unknown territory at this point, and carried the phone to the far end of the hallway. Still no signal.
I decided I had to carry the phone outside. I had
Eventually I dozed off. When I came to, the sun was beginning to set. In the background of the silence of the house, I heard rumbling. It sounded like it was coming from outside. A cloud of dust zipped past the road and a sleek silver Cadillac turned into our driveway.
My heart began to race. My hands shook at the thought of having to touch the gun Ash left for me. I tried to play out multiple scenarios in my head. I tried to think of places in the house for us to hide.
I heard a car door. My heart pounded in my ears now. I grabbed Tuck and went into the kitchen to look for the gun.
There was a rap at the door. It didn’t sound like a scary, heavy type of knock. It sounded more like a gentle, I’m-a-stranded-traveler-and-I-need-help kind of knock. I sat Tuck in the highchair and peered around the corner to get a good look at the stranger at the door. I remembered what Ash said about the special coating on the windows.
Standing at the front door was a woman who looked to be about my age, if not a little older. She wore dark jeans and an ivory cashmere sweater. Her thick, dark hair was pushed back with the help of some oversized, black sunglasses that rested on top of her head. She seemed completely harmless. Ash would kill me if he knew I was deeming someone safe just by looking at them, but she was very nicely dressed. And she drove a Cadillac. She didn’t look like someone who ran around with a rag tag group of rebel bikers.
She knocked on the door again. I reached for the door handle then stopped myself. She gave up and walked back to her car, stopping first to stare at the house one more time.
Jilted, I returned to check on Tuck. He was happy and oblivious in his highchair, elated to see me. I vowed that things would return to normal right then and there. I refused to live these weeks or months in pure fear. I would take safety precautions, but I would not live this period in my life at the mercy of the things of which I knew nothing. I refused to allow my mind to play tricks on me, at least if I could help it.
“Are you hungry, Tucker baby?” I said, in my happiest mommy voice.
He squealed and squirmed in his one-year-old body.
I prepared his cereal and filled a sippy cup with milk from the stocked refrigerator. Once Tuck had been fed, I fixed myself a bowl of soup from the cupboard.
We retired to the living room, where I popped in a DVD to help us both fall asleep. I was aiming for an 8:00 bedtime. I just wanted to sleep away this little extended vacation. If I slept from 8pm to 9 or 10am every day, my days would fly by. I could cope with that.
My wish inevitably came true, as we drifted off to sleep with the dull glow of the TV in the background and awoke the next morning to the sound of songbirds outside the sunroom windows. My pajamas stuck to my sweaty, damp skin. I blamed it on the leather chair. That or I’d had a nightmare. As I wrapped my arms around Tuck and peeled myself off the chair, I couldn’t help but notice how hot Tuck was too. I wondered if the sun had been shining in the windows on us while we slept that morning, but the sun was on the opposite side of the house. Tuck’s cheeks were ruddy and he began to fuss.
I grabbed the thermometer from his diaper bag and took his temperature. 104.1. I began to panic. I gave him liquid fever reducer and grabbed the prepaid cell phone to try and call Ash. As soon as the phone powered on my worst fears were confirmed. No signal. I carried the phone to every corner of the first floor, praying for at least one bar. I ran up the creaky wooden staircase to the second floor, unknown territory at this point, and carried the phone to the far end of the hallway. Still no signal.
I decided I had to carry the phone outside. I had
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