Devil to Pay: Cutter (The Bedlam Horde MC Book 5) by Sarah Zolton Arthur

Author:Sarah Zolton Arthur [Zolton Arthur, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Irving House Press
Published: 2022-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

12

CUTTER

Jesus, I can’t believe I agreed to this. Reap and I wait outside on our bikes for the women. They’re just closing up shop now. Horace will pick up my truck to bring it home while we’re gone.

Betty rounds the building. “Reaper, Cutter,” she says while passing us on the way to her SUV, it’s so large the woman has to use a step bar to get in. Aja and Dusty have to be just behind.

“Have a good weekend, Betty,” Reaper says.

“Take it easy,” I call out to her before she closes her door.

Not a minute later, both our women round the building, and I don’t know about Dusty, but that’s not what Aja left for work in this morning. She’s got those black jeans painted on again, but she’s paired them with this flowy, peasant top and knee-high, brown suede, soft-soled boots with fringe. I’ve got no idea when she bought those. Maybe they belong to Dusty? Either way, she looks like a fucking hippie.

“You look hot, baby, but that’s an interesting choice. You look like one of those hippies from the 1960s.”

When she laughs I start to worry. “Didn’t I tell you?” she asks.

I wait, staring at her.

“It’s Hippiefest.” The inflection goes up in her voice all chipper and shit.

I look to Reap. “You know about this shit?”

“Dusty told me. I thought you knew.”

“Fuck. If I have to put up with hippies all weekend, I’m picking the dinner spot.”

“What do you want?” Aja asks.

“Ass,” I tease and her face drops. “Fried chicken.”

The relieved smile spreads across her face. “I could go for some chicken and waffles.”

“Then we all know where we’re heading,” Reaper says right before pulling Dusty in for a long kiss, then picking her up to help her onto the back of his bike.

Aja approaches with her arms up to wrap around my neck. “Thanks, Cut,” she whispers right before pressing up on her toes to kiss me good and thorough. I can hardly believe that I’m the one to break it by pushing back from her but holding my hand out.

She takes it, letting me lead her over to my bike and help her on. I fish out her helmet from the top box, fitting it onto her head and buckling the strap. She gets a leather jacket too because I won’t take chances with Aja. God forbid we crash, she’s coming out of this alive.

I wouldn’t have thought twice about that for any other woman. But she’s never been any other woman. After I climb on in front of her, she wraps her arms tight around my middle while I bring the machine to life.

Reaper and I head out of the parking lot. We stop off at this little hole-in-the-wall joint that serves up the best fried chicken in Kentucky, in my opinion. They serve dinners with mashed potatoes, yeast rolls, a veg, and a salad or slaw. They also offer Aja’s chicken and waffles. She orders a salad that has berries and shit in it to get her greens in, but it makes sense with waffles and syrup.

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