Ugly Beast (Hell's Bastards MC 1) - Page 20

“You keep running your mouth like that it’s going to get you killed.”

“Only if the wrong people hear. I bet your guy has got a big dick, or is it small?” Chantel chuckled. “From the look in your eye I’m going to say he’s a big boy. Well, sis, you’re going to need to learn how to service that cock, otherwise he’s going to find a slut to use. He’ll probably give you some disease or something.”

“Did you come to say goodbye or do you just want to make me feel like crap?” Abriana asked.

“If Dad does decide to marry me off, he’ll save me for a guy that matters. You’re not the prettiest girl, and so your ass was passed to one of the ugliest MC—”

He’d heard enough.

Opening the door, he didn’t look toward Abriana, but to Chantel. She went a little pale even as her gaze shot fire at him.

“You know, little sluts like you are a dime a dozen. I’d be careful who you run your mouth to. I may be ugly, but I can tell you one thing, one word to your dad, and you’d be sold to a fucking rancid dog with an infected cock. You think you’ve got value because you’re pretty. I can already tell you’re not pure.” He smiled. “You may have a lot of guys fooled, but not me. I hear you disrespecting my wife again, I’ll fuck you up, kid or not. A whore with a mouth like that deserves what she gets. Get the fuck out.”

He watched her go before turning his gaze to his wife.

“You shouldn’t talk to her like that.”

“As my wife, you don’t have no bitch disrespect you. It’s time you learn to take care of yourself. You start to believe the vile shit she spews, we’re going to have a problem.”

“She was just upset because Dad wouldn’t give her what she wanted.”

“Your daddy can suck my dick, Abriana. Sister or not, she don’t get to talk to you like that. I won’t allow it. Where we’re going to go, there are going to be bitches who’ll hurt you. Who’ll stab you in the back.”

“Then leave me here.”

“Not happening. I spunked inside you last night. I need to make sure no spawn is going to come of it. It’s time to go.”

He picked up her suitcase.

He was impressed with her choice of jeans and a large shirt. He pulled a sweater out of his bag and handed it to her. “It’s going to get cold. Put this on.”

She took it from him and quickly pulled it over her head.

The clothes she wore were much too large, and he didn’t get a good look at her body, even though he wanted to.

Shaking his head to clear the fog that had entered his mind, he turned his back and started to walk away. He heard her following him.

Her steps were fast as she rushed to keep up.

“Do I have to go and say goodbye?” she asked.

“Anyone wanting to say goodbye will be outside waiting. We don’t have time for this. It’s time to go home.” He was done with all the bullshit. If he stayed here another minute, he was putting a bullet in Vigo and Garofalo’s head.

It had been his idea to do that at the start. As far as he was concerned, you could never trust a made man or a capo, or anyone to do with the mafia. They always had their own agenda, and it never included outsiders, not when those outsiders were more powerful.

The Hell’s Bastards had proved that time and again by defending Garofalo. In doing so, as far as he was concerned, he’d shown the mafia how powerful they all were. That was his fault. He shouldn’t have done it, but he had. There was no getting away from that.

Once outside, he noticed no one had come to say bye to her. Not a single person. Not even her mother.

Glancing toward the house as he grabbed his bike, he saw no signs of anyone. Securing her back to his bike, he tossed her a helmet, waiting for her to drag it over her head. Her long brown hair disappeared inside the helmet. He wanted to do a great deal of things to her body, to feel her against him. There would be time for that soon enough, he had no doubt.

He climbed on his bike and waited for her. She gripped his jacket as he straddled his bike.

“Hold onto me,” he said.

She did so, but not tight enough.

He jerked the bike forward so she had no choice but to hold onto him. He was getting sick and tired of the bullshit with chicks. They were either too grabby or not enough.

His wife was going to make him work for it.

Smokey was the first to leave the parking lot, and he revved his engine, taking his turn, leaving the house behind. He didn’t look back, not once. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw this place. Garofalo would need them again and soon, he could guarantee it.

Tags: Sam Crescent Hell's Bastards MC Romance
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