Blow Me Away (Seven Tribesmen Motorcycle Club Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

stewing in his thoughts of 'I told you so' and 'I knew it was a bad idea.' 
     
    Bishop waited for Coyote to snap, to swing at him, or to take some form of physical retaliation.  It didn't com e— although Bishop could see self-control and desire feud over Coyote’s thoughts.
     
    “I'm calling a meeting tonight to figure out our little infestation,” grunted Bishop, cutting through the hostility.  Coyote eased back, as if realizing his proximity to his president.  He never tore his green eyes from Bishop though, even as the tension deflated from the room.  Feeling like a cat that is eyed by a ravenous dog, Bishop pushed off the wall.  His muscles tensed, still waiting for Coyote to slam a fist against him; but, it never came.  Bishop wasn't sure whether he felt more relieved or disappointed.  “I'll go get Newb's proxy vote, now.”
     
    Bishop's boots trod across the floor, his back burning where Coyote glared at him.  Undoubtedly, the vice president struggled to remind Bishop that Newb wasn't even patched in yet.  His vote wasn't needed.  It had already been discussed at length that Newb would be patched in as soon as he was fully healed though.  The leading nickname was Bulletproof.
     
    Bishop slammed the door open, jarring the blinds, and headed for his hog.  As he crossed the parking lot, he hoped a ride would clear the sudden agitation and unease from his head.  Without warning, he wondered where Stella was and what she was doing.  He muttered a guttural curse and hopped onto his hog.  The sooner he went roaring down the road, the better.
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    The air rushed out of Bishop's lungs when he saw Stella in Newb's room.  She didn't notice him as he approached the door.  The two seemed entrenched in conversation, both wearing broad smiles.  However, something unpleasant stirred inside Bishop's chest.
     
    As if sensing Bishop, Stella and Newb turned their gazes toward the door.  Bishop swallowed, as her eyes widened at the sight of him.  Sudden insecurities flitted through his head.  He was wearing a dirty, grease-stained shirt; his hair looked like absolute shit; and, he hadn't shaved the last two days.  Scruffy did not begin to describe him.
     
    Stella, on the other hand, appeared extremely put together.  Her dark blue pant suit was freshly pressed and her make-up impeccabl e— even her hair looked firmly in place.  She was completely and utterly the opposite of Bishop's appearance.
     
    She turned to Newb, a weak smile on her lips.  “I better get going.”
     
    “What?  The boss won't mind!”  Regardless of Newb's sunny presumption, Stella stood up.  Newb turned big, innocent eyes in Bishop's direction.  “Right?”
     
    Tense discomfort filled the air, as Bishop scowled and averted his gaze from the Seven Tribesmen potential.  As if Newb didn't even speak, Stella said her farewells.  Only the sound of her heels clicking across the tiles lit into the air as Stella powered passed Bishop.  Neither dared to cross gazes.
     
    Even as her footfalls died away, Bishop kept his gaze locked the far wall.  He glared at the hazardous materials bin, his jaw working as he fought an overwhelming wave of inexplicable emotions.  He needed sleep.  That was it.  Tonight, after the vote, he was going to bed with one of those sleeping pills.  Maybe three.
     
    “Did something happen, boss?”  Newb's voice shook Bishop from his thoughts. 
     
    His gaze flickered to his injured brother, and curiosity took over. “Why was she here?”
     
    “Agent Holmes visits during lunch.  She's been sneaking me soda.”  The young man chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but his attempts were fruitless.  The tension hung around in the air.
     
    Bishop turned to Newb.  A cold suspicion cut through his thoughts and his stomach lurched.  He licked his lips, tilting his head back a little as his eyes scanned the man for telltale marks.  “That all she sneaking