Thrash by JC Emery

Author:JC Emery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sexy, violent, outlaw, biker, motorcycle club

Chapter 13

The clubhouse was in a fucking uproar when I left. The brothers were all bitching about that shit with Grady and Trigger, and a few of them tried to drag me into the conversation. Fuck that. I was not about to stand around and shoot the shit after I just had a gun trained on my best friend’s skull. Sometimes I wonder if some of these guys really understand how serious this shit is.

I rode for a good hour, just up and down the coast, before I’d cleared my head enough to head back to the house I share with Trigger. It’s more of a crash pad, but that’s not uncommon for single Forsaken members. The small house is Forsaken property—thank God—and the standard rules of renting don’t apply to us. Otherwise the owner might take Trigger’s dirty ass to court over the holes in his walls and piss on the carpet in the living room. He did try to clean it after he sobered up, but still. I’m not picky or nothing, but even I think the place is pretty fucking gross, and that’s why I’m packing a bag. Nic doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to be staying with her. Her house is much cleaner than this one, and I’m pretty sure with the right tactic, I’ll be able to get her to cook for me.

The walls shake with the intense boom that sounds in the other room. I stand from my sitting position and draw my gun from the back of my waistband. Clicking off the safety and slowly crossing the room with my .38 out in front of me, I take a deep breath and swing my bedroom door open. The hallway is silent save for the low buzzing sound of the light about to short out over head.

With my back to the wall, I enter the living room and train my gun on the front door. In the shadows of the covered window stands Trigger. He’s resting his back against the closed front door, and his eyes are closed. For a brief second, I think he looks peaceful, but then I notice the drawn gun in his right hand and the knife in his left. Trigger’s always been temperamental, but ever since Princess arrived, he’s downright maniacal.

“What the fuck, Bitch?” I ask, lowering my gun and clicking the safety back on. It’s the second time today that I’ve had to pull a gun on him, and if he doesn’t knock this shit off, I might be tempted to give him a flesh wound just for the stress he’s causing me. His eyes open slowly as he pushes off the door and hangs a right into the kitchen. I follow, if only to score a cold beer from the fridge.

“Where in the hell have you been?” I ask as I retrieve two beers and slide one down the counter to him. He shoves the knife back into his boot strap and places the gun on the counter.

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