The Biker's Kiss (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 1) - Page 24

Murder stomps back up the stairs. Halfway up he turns back to me. “Get her out of here now,” he growls.

I shoot him a chin lift.

“All right, Lil’ Lady. You got a jacket somewhere?”

She goes to the closet by the front door and tugs out a winter coat. It’s black and has a gold princess crown embroidered with her name. She gets her coat on and puts some black furry boots on. Maybe her mom fell on hard times because her clothes are in good shape and name brand. I shouldn’t judge so harshly but the empty fridge and dirty dishes pisses me off.

“You have anything else you need?”

“No,” she whispers and coughs.

“Zip that jacket up.”

She struggles and I end up placing the backpack on the couch and dropping to my knees to do it for her. The tip of her nose is red and crusted with dried snot. I want to wipe her face off, but I can hear Murder upstairs and know he’ll have my ass if I don’t get her out of here. “There. Let’s go.” I hand her the backpack and she loops her fingers around the straps dragging it behind her.

Outside, I shove the straps of the backpack over her shoulders. Lifting her up I plop her down on the seat of my bike. “Listen, I’ll drive slow. You don’t need to be scared. My helmet is too big for you, so you’ll ride without one. Keep your feet on these pegs.” I tap her leg and point. She nods. “When I get on, put your arms around my waist, head on my back. Don’t lean or move. Don’t panic. I’ll keep you safe.”

I get on and she curls her fingers in the belt loops of my jeans holding on tight. The sound of my Harley roars into the night.

The moment I roll up to the Devil’s Playground, our clubhouse, I know bringing the kid here is a bad idea. A party is in full swing. I shut off my bike and once she lets go of my pants swing my leg over. I ruffle my fingers through her pale hair. “See nothing to it. You’re a natural.” I grip her waist and pluck her off the seat, planting her feet on the ground. “Keep your head down and stick to my side. Don’t look at what’s happening inside just keep walking until I tell you it’s okay.”

I trudge toward the entrance, the music growing louder. Fuck. This is no place for an angel. No place at all. Fucking Murder. What the hell was he thinking tasking me with brat duty? This is some shit one of his muffler bunnies should be handling. What the hell am I supposed to do with her?

Here we fucking go. I push the door open, loud rock filtering through and blasting me right in the damn face along with a cloud of smoke. I scan the room and the festivities haven’t started. I check my watch. The night is still young.

“Hey handsome,” Mariah purrs, licking her lips and rubbing up on my right side, her fake tits spilling out of her neon green tube top. I’m in no mood for her and the bullshit she brings with her. Woman is nothing but pure drama. Catty and clingy as hell. Two things I don’t want or need.

I push her off. “Not now.”

“Shit.” She notices my shadow. “Didn’t know you had a kid, East.”

“I don’t.”

“Wait you aren’t into some sick shit, are you?”

My brow furrows and I ball my fist. “Fuck you for even saying some shit like that, you fuckin’ dumb cunt.” I shove past her and go to the bar and stick Wylla Mae on a stool. “Get her a Sprite,” I yell over the noise to Slater.

He gives me a chin lift, grabs a can from the cooler, and slides it down the bar. I pop the tab. “Don’t drink nothing or eat a damn thing unless I give it to you directly. No one here would hurt you but shit happens, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Understood?”

Her doe eyes gaze up at me. She doesn’t say anything but takes the pop and chugs.

“You hungry?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.” She slides down the stool and curls into my side where I keep her pressed until we get there. It’s only a matter of time before shit starts to get wild around here. The kitchen door swings open and Pam stands on the other side.

“What are you up to?” She raises her arms over her head, securing her dark curly hair in a ponytail.

“This is Wylla Mae, my charge for the evening. Whatchu’ got good, fast, and hot?”

“I’d tell you but it’s not appropriate for small ears.” Her laughter rings out.

I shake my head. I walked straight into that one.

“Stick this in the fridge will ya.” I dig the medicine out and toss the bottle her way.

“Aw, sweetie, are you sick?”

Tags: Glenna Maynard Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV Romance
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