Bad For You - Sherilee Gray Page 0,6

hands on women or children.

My father was in deep with this latest shit Trip was involved in, I had no doubt, but so far we had no evidence. He got other people to do his dirty work.

Usually, my brother.

Trip and several of his club brothers had joined forces with our enemy, the Jackals MC, wanting in on their drug running operation. The fuckwit had offered our guys up as couriers, for a nice chunk of the profits, of course, if they helped him take out Trip’s chapter president in Albert. Positioning himself for the top spot.

The Ramblers had left that life behind a while ago. Extracting ourselves from it had not been easy, and we weren’t looking to go back.

Something Trip and my old man had voiced their displeasure about many times.

I rubbed my hands over my face, and let out a harsh breath as my gaze dipped to my phone. I opened my messages and my gaze dropped to Lila’s name instantly. What was it about this girl? Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?

I checked the time. She’d be at work. I could see her now, glasses perched on her nose, wearing one of those sexy-as-fuck pencil skirts she always wore, a pretty silk shirt clinging to her gorgeous tits. Yep, I was a full-on bastard because my dick was instantly hard. I shifted in my seat.

And instead of texting her like I wanted to, I replied to Dane’s message from earlier asking what town I was in.

Jesse: No fucking idea.

Dane: Any sign of Trip?

Jesse: Nope. You seen Lila?

Dane: Yep.

Jesse: And?

Dane: And what?

Jesse: Don’t be an asshole. She okay?

Dane: How the fuck would I know? We don’t get together for girly chats.

Jesse: You’re a prick, you know that?

Dane: Yep.

I was choking down cold fries when my phone chirped again.

Dane: Actually, I do have something. She’s seeing someone. You’re in the clear. No need for all the guilt.

I read it again.

My gut knotted. My heart beat faster. Rage, sharp and white hot hit me. I snatched up my phone and had to stop myself from throwing it against the wall.

She’d moved on.

Found someone else.

What did you think would happen?

The roar of bikes shook the diner windows. I turned as two guys rolled into the parking lot wearing Jackals MC colors.

They were off their bikes now, checking out mine.

Coincidence? I didn’t believe in them.

I stood, cracked my neck. Perfect timing. I was in the mood to beat the shit out of someone.

Chapter Three

Jesse

A week later

I curled my fingers into a tight fist, my knuckles bleeding and split, and spat at my brother’s feet. He stared up at me, battered and bloody, his hatred for me shining bright.

The feeling was mutual.

“This is done, you hear me?” I tore his Ramblers cut from his hands, and shoved a sobbing Sofia behind me. I glanced at her, at the bruises on her face, her arms, some faded, some new, and kicked the prick in the ribs one more time.

Maybe I should feel bad, feel anything after beating the shit out of my own brother, for taking everything from him. But I didn’t. Seeing Sofia had cured me of any sentiment towards Trip.

We were blood, but we’d parted ways a long time ago, right about the time he’d become a carbon copy of our abusive father.

He was nothing. He didn’t exist to me anymore.

Rooster, a club brother from Albert, had joined me a few days ago. He’d been sent to help me clean up the mess Trip had made. He’d spilled his guts without much encouragement, given us the names of the traitors to save his own skin. Not the old man though. He was protecting that fucker, even now.

I stood back as Rooster torched Trip’s bike, then I crouched down beside him, got in his face. “I ever see you again, anyone in the club sees you again, you come anywhere near Sofia…and you’re dead,” I bit out.

I gave Rooster a chin lift, tossed Trip’s cut on the blaze, then took my sister-in-law’s hand and led her away from the warehouse parking lot. We both got on my bike, and tore off.

I wanted her away from Trip. Away from all of it.

I found an old barn a few miles out of town that I could stash my bike behind and was far enough from the farmhouse that we shouldn’t be woken in the night by some pissed-off, gun-wielding farmer.

As much as I wanted to get Soph as far away from here