ASA: BLACK SKULLS MC by Walker Kylie

Author:Walker, Kylie [Walker, Kylie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kylie Walker
Published: 2017-01-07T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

After stopping off at her room in the motor inn and changing out of the pantsuit that had been making her life miserable, Samantha drove with the AC blasting through the oppressively hot temperatures of Death Falls to Asa’s little house. On her way out of the clubhouse, Jared Hurst had made a point to let her know she could find him there.

He had looked concerned approaching her, his boots stirring up dust as he slightly dragged his feet, his head tilted to the side in a manner that hadn’t at all matched his stature or personality. Jared wasn’t in the top five. He wasn’t on the committee that met in that room. And he would have had no way of knowing what specifically had been said to Samantha. But he knew what Samantha meant to one of his closest friends and that’s why he had seemed to ask her with his eyes what was going on.

She hadn’t said a thing.

Pulling into the dusty parking area outside of Asa’s house where his Harley was propped on its kickstand, Samantha tried to breathe to loosen the knot that had formed in her stomach. This should be so easy, she told herself, throwing her Prius into park and pulling the key from the engine. Rodney Boone wanted the exact same thing as her editor, Harry Walsh—the truth. So why was she terrified?

Because if and when Harry wielded the truth, it would have the power to kill only a reputation. The Boones wouldn’t be nearly so kind and the fact that they were now fixated on Asa seemed unusually cut throat and cold hearted.

Samantha reminded herself that just because the Black Skulls suspected Asa of keeping a secret about what might have really happened to Johnny Fox that night didn’t mean that Asa himself was responsible. And with that she finally climbed out of her car, her stiletto heels tapping into the crunchy dirt. She heard clanging and banging coming from the far side of the house, around back.

Dressed in a tight, brown leather skirt and Motley Crue tee shirt hanging off her right shoulder that gave her biker chick outfit an 80’s flair, her hair blown out wild and full, she started off walking towards the back of the house, hugging the perimeter where it provided a few feet of shade. When she reached the back yard where the yellow grass was losing its battle with the scorching sun—clinging to life in patches, surrounded by pale, dry dirt—she found Asa lying on his dolly, an old Ford pickup rusting out in the heat above him, his strong legs bent and poking out. It didn’t exactly look like the type of vehicle that could be salvaged no matter how much work you put into it, but Asa was banging away at the undercarriage none-the-less.

Perhaps he heard the clicks of her stiletto heels as she approached because the banging stopped and he began rolling out from under the truck to find her standing over him, the blazing sun behind her head like some kind of halo.

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