Read Online Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) by Kylie Hillman - Free Book Online Page B

one ear for the intruder to start heading my way.
    I don’t hear a thing, thankfully.
    Deciding on a new course of action, I start backing away.
    A high-pitched shriek leaves me when I hit a broad, warm chest.
    “I’d stop right there, little lady.” Warm breath blows over my head as a rough voice menaces me. I’m about to lower my phone from my ear when the operator speaks.
    “State your emergency?”
    A hard, cylindrical object is pushed against my kidneys, making me freeze.
    Is that a gun?
    “Tell them it’s a mistake.”
    I shake my head, and they prod me harder in the back.
    “Do it, bitch. Right fucking now.”
    My legs are shaking as is the hand holding my phone. My mind’s gone blank, and I can’t think of anything I can do to help myself in this situation. I’ve never had a physical altercation in my life. The most danger I’ve ever faced has been at the end of my father’s sharp tongue and his leather belt, and that wasn’t adequate preparation for circumstances like this. 
    “Ma’am. Please state your emergency,” the operator asks again.
    Licking my dry lips, and with the stark reminder of my situation pressed against my back, I find the ability to answer. “I’m sorry, it’s, um, nothing. I thought I heard something, but it was nothing.”
    “Ma’am, are you all right? You sound scared.”
    “I’m fine. I just scared myself. Bye, now.” I hang up the phone, but keep holding it to my ear as if its mere presence is going to keep me safe from what’s about to happen.
    My phone’s ripped from my hand and thrown on the floor before the intruder stomps it with a heavy boot. The crunching sound as its obliterated draws the second intruder out of my bedroom, his covered face pointed toward us.
    “That her?”
    The person behind me swings me around to face them, grabbing my chin with force. The gloves he’s wearing soften his harsh grip just enough to make it bearable. His face is covered like the other man’s. All I can see is his nose and angry brown eyes.
    “You Timber’s bitch?”
    Well, that answers the main question running through my head. Why is someone breaking into my house?
    Because I’m fucking an outlaw biker appears to be the answer. Stupid, stupid me for thinking I could ignore the dangers of his alternative lifestyle.
    Shaking my head in answer, my hope that they might leave if I can convince them it’s a case of mistaken identity are shattered when the man holding my chin replies.
    “Yeah, you are. You’re the bitch from the hospital. I remember you.”
    What the hell?
    Is this someone from Lucas’s Club? I’ve been vaguely aware of the problems they’ve been having over the last few months, but I haven’t paid too much attention to details. I’ve been friendly from a distance when he’s taken me to events, uninterested in getting to know any of them very well.
    The only things I know for sure about the Black Shamrocks is that Lucas has had to leave me without warning sometimes for “Club Business”, and that Joel was discharged from rehab after about eight weeks. Apart from seeing him a few times at the Clubhouse, I haven’t followed up with his progress. I don’t know what he was like before his injuries, but he’s now a very cold, closed-off person who quite frankly scares the crap out of me.
    Letting go of my chin, he motions me toward my front door with his gun.
    “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You can walk out of here without making a fucking scene, or I can knock you out and carry your skinny ass.”
    The gravity of my situation finally sinks in.
    With a loud scream, I dodge around him, dashing for my front door.
    I need to get out of here. I need to find someone to help me.
    “The hard way it is.” He grunts as he sweeps out one of his long legs and trips me. I fall face-first onto the carpet with a loud oomph .
    Before I can right myself, he straddles my back. Yanking my head back with a handful of hair, he jams a damp cloth over