Strays (Red Kings #1) Read Online Free Page A

nervous and fidgeting like she did as a school kid in the principal's office.
     
    As scared as he was then, Tyler couldn't imagine refusing the biker, so he obediently followed him away from the truck. The next day, he was hacking again, complying with every command the club gave him in order to prove himself worthy. He got comfortable with the outlaws, started to feel at home in the clubhouse, and constantly tried to make Jackie visit him. He even talked to her about joining the Red Kings MC, his desire to be an official part of the group fueled by a guy currently prospecting with them and the fragile friendship he had going on with his recruiter, who also happened to be the club's most notorious member.
     
    The man in question was Dean Rockwell, a rude, no-good, arrogant man with an incredibly limited vocabulary in Jackie's opinion. He was a stereotypical biker – violent, tattooed, ill mannered, and angry. He had absolutely zero redeemable qualities that would make him a good person to have around.
     
    Jackie managed to dodge Tyler's pleas for her to visit him at the clubhouse. She found all kinds of excuses and means of escape, going as far as feigning illness and taking extra shifts at work. But she couldn't say no to him forever and so today she found herself standing in front of a building next to the automotive garage that looked a little worse for wear.
     
    She was not one to judge a book by its cover, but if the inside of this place looked as bad as the outside, she would have to reschedule with Tyler so she could go and get her shots before she went in. It was an old brick building that had definitely seen better days. All the bricks looked chipped and aged and the roof was a little crooked. There were three steps leading up to the door and the windows were each a slightly different size and shape. Some of them looked like they had been broken and replaced numerous times and the ones that didn’t had bars on them. Jackie wasn’t sure if she was at a clubhouse or a prison.  
     
    When they got there, Tyler was as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. He dragged her around the place so fast that it made her head spin. The way he was doing things, she didn't have time to pay close attention to the people she was introduced to. All of the bikers looked the same to Jackie: huge, heavily tattooed, and scary as hell. She was never good with names, so she was thankful that some of them wore work shirts with name tags. That way she could go over them again once she got a chance to breathe. When Tyler's frantic tour was over, he told her to sit while he talked business. Before Jackie could say anything, he was deep in conversation with a bear of a man and she was left to look around aimlessly.
     
    The main part of the clubhouse was a single, spacious room. To one side was a bar, at which she was currently seated. Beer bottles littered the place and the air was thick with cigarette smoke, making it hard for her to breathe. There were a couple of old tables spread about, a biker on his cellphone seated at one. A tattered leather couch and a couple of armchairs surrounded a wooden coffee table with magazines scattered on top.
     
    A pool table, worn from use, blocked a set of wooden doors from the rest of the room, but Jackie didn't know where they led. On his tour, Tyler didn't go anywhere near them and neither did the other occupants of the clubhouse. Jackie imagined that they were locked, off limits to anyone outside of the club. She would even go as far as to guess that the rumored illegal activities were planned behind those closed doors.
     
    A long corridor was to the left and she was told that the bathroom and a few bedrooms were in that direction. If Tyler became a prospect, he would probably spend most of his nights in one of the rooms and she would have the apartment all to herself, an idea she wasn't sure she liked very much. She would just have to visit him here at the clubhouse, which so far seemed like