The Belle and the Biker by Kenzie Reed

Author:Kenzie Reed [Reed, Kenzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Manor Press
Published: 2023-05-08T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Savannah

I had no idea Crash was such a sadist. After the makeover, he insists we go out in public. I do get to change out of my shorts and into jeans because it’s a little chilly out, but that’s it. I have to wear the wig, the T-shirt, the makeup, a beat-up denim jacket, and motorcycle boots. He says I need to practice walking around in this outfit so I can do it without looking like I’m about to throw up.

I’m trying to get used to riding on a bike with him, but the vibrations still throb through my entire body and make me want to scream with sexual frustration. I grit my teeth the whole way and picture gross things like rotting garbage and plaid pants with striped shirts, and it helps…a little.

After Crash and I eat lunch at a small restaurant downtown, I want to go home immediately, but he says we have to go grocery shopping.

It’s a mortifying experience. The biker club is in the grittier part of town, but Tranquil Bay has an upscale neighborhood, and we’re in it. The parking lot is full of shiny new 2020 model Range Rovers, Lincoln Navigators, and Mercedes G-Class SUVs.

I’ve faced much worse than this. I went to finishing school and competed in pageants with some of the biggest bitches in North Carolina. I was a beauty pageant contestant. And I survived twenty-five years of my mother’s passive-aggressive undermining.

I paste a smile on my face and walk into the grocery store. I stare straight ahead as I push my cart, focusing on our grocery list, and head to the vegetable aisle.

A young woman in a navy tweed jacket pushes her twin stroller past us. Her hair is a shoulder-length, shiny blonde bob, and she accessorized with small, tasteful silver hoops and an armful of chunky bangles. Her toddlers are adorably matched in little Burberry outfits in shades that complement her own clothing. She catches sight of us and stops in her tracks. Then she takes a careful step backward and wheels her twin stroller around. She practically leaves scorch marks hightailing it out of there.

I can’t even blame her. I’d run from me too. Gloom wraps around me like a cloud. That woman? Once upon a time, that was me. Right down to the snotty, judgmental attitude.

And screw her for being so well dressed. I freaking loved her jacket.

Yes, I’ve faced worse than this many times in the past, but I was dressed for it.

I cross my arms over my T-shirt. “Did you see how she looked at me?” I groan. “Like I was something she’d need to scrape off her shoe.”

“You don’t even know her, for God’s sake,” Crash says. “Why do you care what she thinks?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Hello, this is Savannah Harkwell speaking,” I say in a low voice. His look of annoyance cheers me up a little.

“Banshee,” he corrects me with a scowl. “Your life may depend on remembering that.”

“Whatever. You know me, I always care what people think.

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