Read Online The Devil in Her Bed (Heartless Devils Motorcycle Club Book 1) by Kathryn Thomas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kathryn Thomas
Ads: Link
get out of my house.”
“It’s an apartment.”
“Shut the fuck up and get out, or I will call security and have you thrown out. Your choice.”
“The rent a cop?” he asked dubiously.
“Backed by laws against trespass. Do you really want to add assault?”
“And what will your father say? He’s the one that told me to guard you.”
“Oh, you’re gonna tell him? Fine. Tell him. What’s he gonna do? I’ll have his ass thrown out, too. I’m not leaving here, but you are. Now. Go!” She tried physically move him in the direction of the door by pushing at his chest. She might have as well been trying to shove a bull. He grabbed hold of her hands before she managed to retract them and held them close to his chest, leaning in close.
“You don’t mean any of this. This is just going to lead to trouble. You’re going to get hurt if you carry on like this,” he told her softly.
She ripped her hands away from his grip. “Get...out.”
He nodded slowly as his mouth hardened. Leaving his plate untouched, he began collecting the few things he had there, picked up his bag, and headed toward the door. He paused there and looked back at her.
“You can call me if you need me. Any time.”
All Jenny could do in response was snicker. “Yeah. Be sure to wait by the phone.”
With a nod he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.
Chapter 5
Jenny had a lot to do. She has spent hours the night before googling Trifecta. After she waded through all the horse racing and betting bullshit, she finally found a few tidbits of information about the club… or gang as some of the articles called them. Using Google maps, she plotted all the places where they were mentioned and soon she had worked up a pretty good idea of where in Miami she needed to be, the Little Haiti area. But where? That was the problem. She had a general area, but she needed a location or an address. Before she went to bed last night, she had decided that she would just cruise the area until she found a lot of bikes and start there. Little Haiti wasn’t so big an area that she couldn’t do it.
The first place she stopped was a total bust. Nobody knew anything, or they weren’t talking. The second place was a little better. The Trifecta weren’t there, but the bartender knew of them and sent her to the Blue Fox Bar on the corner of 934 and NW 2nd, near the center of the district.
It had taken most of the day to track them down, but she was confident she was in the right place this time. She eased her bike in a parking space among all the riced out imports, each with the numbers 1, 2, and 3 in a deep blue, woven together and stenciled somewhere on the car. She was slightly surprised the Trifecta wasn’t a motorcycle club like the Devils. She could hear a dull thudding beat of some repetitive trance music blasting away inside. She dismounted and applied another coat of red lip gloss, using the mirror of her bike, before she made her way into the bar. It was smoky inside with very modern decorating, including purple strip lights lining the base of the furniture. The bass was throbbing through her, as she slipped her jacket off and flung it over her shoulder, walking to the bar with an accentuated hip swing that she knew drew men’s attention.
She perched herself on a bar stool, arching her back to help get her noticed. The bartender was busy serving some men in suits at the far end of the bar, so while she waited, she used the mirrors opposite her to get a good look at the place. It was murky, but she could make out it was full of sharply dressed men and trashy looking women. Other women were dancing in the middle of the room—though it looked more like they were striking different poses for a low-class magazine. The bartender finally noticed her and leered a smile when she asked for a dirty martini. When her drink arrived, Jenny spun on her stool to peruse
“It’s an apartment.”
“Shut the fuck up and get out, or I will call security and have you thrown out. Your choice.”
“The rent a cop?” he asked dubiously.
“Backed by laws against trespass. Do you really want to add assault?”
“And what will your father say? He’s the one that told me to guard you.”
“Oh, you’re gonna tell him? Fine. Tell him. What’s he gonna do? I’ll have his ass thrown out, too. I’m not leaving here, but you are. Now. Go!” She tried physically move him in the direction of the door by pushing at his chest. She might have as well been trying to shove a bull. He grabbed hold of her hands before she managed to retract them and held them close to his chest, leaning in close.
“You don’t mean any of this. This is just going to lead to trouble. You’re going to get hurt if you carry on like this,” he told her softly.
She ripped her hands away from his grip. “Get...out.”
He nodded slowly as his mouth hardened. Leaving his plate untouched, he began collecting the few things he had there, picked up his bag, and headed toward the door. He paused there and looked back at her.
“You can call me if you need me. Any time.”
All Jenny could do in response was snicker. “Yeah. Be sure to wait by the phone.”
With a nod he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.
Chapter 5
Jenny had a lot to do. She has spent hours the night before googling Trifecta. After she waded through all the horse racing and betting bullshit, she finally found a few tidbits of information about the club… or gang as some of the articles called them. Using Google maps, she plotted all the places where they were mentioned and soon she had worked up a pretty good idea of where in Miami she needed to be, the Little Haiti area. But where? That was the problem. She had a general area, but she needed a location or an address. Before she went to bed last night, she had decided that she would just cruise the area until she found a lot of bikes and start there. Little Haiti wasn’t so big an area that she couldn’t do it.
The first place she stopped was a total bust. Nobody knew anything, or they weren’t talking. The second place was a little better. The Trifecta weren’t there, but the bartender knew of them and sent her to the Blue Fox Bar on the corner of 934 and NW 2nd, near the center of the district.
It had taken most of the day to track them down, but she was confident she was in the right place this time. She eased her bike in a parking space among all the riced out imports, each with the numbers 1, 2, and 3 in a deep blue, woven together and stenciled somewhere on the car. She was slightly surprised the Trifecta wasn’t a motorcycle club like the Devils. She could hear a dull thudding beat of some repetitive trance music blasting away inside. She dismounted and applied another coat of red lip gloss, using the mirror of her bike, before she made her way into the bar. It was smoky inside with very modern decorating, including purple strip lights lining the base of the furniture. The bass was throbbing through her, as she slipped her jacket off and flung it over her shoulder, walking to the bar with an accentuated hip swing that she knew drew men’s attention.
She perched herself on a bar stool, arching her back to help get her noticed. The bartender was busy serving some men in suits at the far end of the bar, so while she waited, she used the mirrors opposite her to get a good look at the place. It was murky, but she could make out it was full of sharply dressed men and trashy looking women. Other women were dancing in the middle of the room—though it looked more like they were striking different poses for a low-class magazine. The bartender finally noticed her and leered a smile when she asked for a dirty martini. When her drink arrived, Jenny spun on her stool to peruse
Similar Books
