Page 9 of Beautifully Reckless
A laugh bubbles up my throat at Smitty calling me “Charity”, and I slap a hand over my mouth to stifle it before he shoots me a wink and turns his focus to Jared.
Ihave no idea how Smitty’s not crashing his bike right now. It can’t be easy riding at this speed through a tunnel while casually chatting through a car window.
“You look like you could use some help,” Smitty’s voice is clear despite racing through a tunnel. “And since you’re carrying some very fucking precious cargo, I’m gonna cut through the shit and just tell you, straight up. We’re helping whether you want it or not.”
Jared nods, his grip on the wheel steady. “Fine with me, man.”
“Good fucking answer.” Smitty nods again, raising his hand and giving some sort of signal to his club brothers riding behind.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch each of them mimic the gesture in unison, like it’s some kind of code. Or maybe it’s just a thing they like to do. Who knows.
Jared rolls up his window, keeping his ute in the middle lane as the tunnel starts to ascend, and he chuckles to himself, shaking his head.
“Wanna see Daniel Stone look like he’s about to piss his pants?” Jared asks, his tone smug. “Take a look behind us.”
Brows shooting up, I shuffle in the seat, craning my neck to peer out the back window. The silver car is falling back, and just like Jared said, Daniel looks panicked.
His eyes are wide, lips moving frantically while Donny looks to be barking into his phone from the passenger seat.
A wicked smirk tugs at my lips.
I like seeing fear in Daniel’s eyes. I like that, right now, the tables are turned and he’s realising that maybe, this time, he’s the victim.
My gaze shifts from the silver car to the horde of motorbikes surrounding both vehicles. Even with their helmets on, I spot JD, Murf, and Spud riding alongside Daniel’s car, with many more riders flanking us on either side and behind.
My heart flips as I scan each rider, hoping to spot one person in particular.
Desperation claws at me as I search for him, needing to know if he’s here, wanting to help too. But unless he’s way in the back, I can’t see him, and my heart stops flipping and starts sinking.
A gentle tap on my shoulder pulls my attention back to find Dee’s soft eyes, understanding etched across her expression before she points out her window, giving me a knowing look.
Following her direction, I glance up, my heart stopping entirely.
Ringo.
He’s right there.
And his dark gaze is locked on mine.
3
There she is. Those big doe eyes. Those rosy cheeks. Those plump lips.
My Angel.
The last time I saw her was in my shitty bathroom back at the Western. She’d been in there cleaning up someone else’s vomit off her clothes. Wendy had found her first and I’d been instantly pissed because that bitch couldn’t seem to grasp basic fucking boundaries. But then Wendy stepped aside, and my eyes found Abbey wearing less clothing than I’d seen on her since I’d stolen her from her parents, and naturally, I took her in.
My gaze dropped, taking in the heavy set of her tits straining against the fabric of a tight white tank. And then my eyes moved lower, which is when shit got confusing, because the moment I saw the swell of her tummy… well somehow Abbey morphed into something else. Someone else. A person I never wanted to see again.
“Ringo! Let’s round them up!”
Smitty’s yell severs my connection to those big brown eyes staring back at me, and I nod over the hood of the ute Abbey’s in, rolling my shoulders back and taking in a deep fucking breath.
For weeks, I’ve been searching for her, desperate to see her again. But my time’s been eaten up with our hunt for answers.
Who the fuck killed our prospect, Morris, and left him to rot in the trunk of Casey’s car?
And where the fuck is our missing prospect, Cookie?
