Hell on Heelz (Asphalt Gods' MC) Read Online Free PDF Page A

disheveled, some bloody. Then I had a sinking feeling that dumped cold water on my excitement.
    “What about Kelly?” I didn’t see her or her friends lingering around anymore.
    “Bitch bled out,” Miss B, the enforcer of the club belted out, her blonde hair in a big rat’s nest from fighting.
    “Dead,” the Banshee confirmed, her mouth held tight.
    My whole body sagged as I almost fell off my bar stool.
    The Banshee’s firm hand gripped my shoulder, holding me up easily.
    My hand went to my mouth as I tasted the bile coming up in my throat. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d been sure Kelly’s friends would take her to the hospital. The nagging fear of being arrested for assault morphed into a shocking prospect of being slapped with a murder charge.
    The Banshee read my horrified face. “Don’t worry, sister. We’ll take care of it. It’s what we do.”
    The others agreed with nods and words of encouragement.
    I moved into cabin number 4 that night, knowing my freedom depended on the Heelz.

Chapter 3
     
    Shirley led me to my cabin while I was still in a state of shock. Somehow, I still noticed the mess I’d have to clean up as she walked me through the overgrown yard and up the wooden steps. The porch light was on as if the shack had been waiting for me— waiting for me to fuck up and have nowhere else to turn. Then I saw the broken porch swing and almost smiled. My kids and I spent many a night on our porch swing. My mind on my babies, all I could think was I’d never see them again. I’d killed a woman and my life was over.
    We made it to the bathroom without me seeing much more of the cabin because Shirley had left the lights off. I stood helpless as she started running me a bath. How she knew that was just what I needed, I didn’t know. My mama had always run me a hot bath anytime I was feeling down or hurt. I remembered when I’d fallen off my bike when I was eleven. No, I’d been pushed off by another kid. He’d stolen my bike too. It just so happened, I started my period for the first time that day.
    Mama ran me a bath, telling me I could use her oils and salts. “You’re a woman now. People are going to shove you down in the dirt, but you’ll clean it up and go on with yourself.”
    “Get undressed.” Shirley’s voice brought me back to the present. “We’ll clean this mess up. You need to pull your shit together.”
    I went to undo the buttons of my shirt, but my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. My hands were shaking, weak. I felt weak all over.
    “Here.” She came and helped me undress, just like my mama had that day. “Step out.”
    Barely able to lift my legs, I stepped out of my pants. Looking down, I saw my bloody hands, hanging uselessly at my sides. It clicked that Shirley was just trying to get rid of the blood, the evidence, but I was thankful all the same. She helped me into the water. It was scorching hot, just like I liked it. I sat, feeling my butt burn and not caring. I leaned back slowly, relishing the scald elsewhere. Just like I’m going to burn in hell, I thought and snickered to myself. I’d gone and killed someone, a fucking whore but also a little girl.
    I stifled a wail as a snot bubble came out my nose. Letting myself sink into the water until it covered my ears, I was only a face and knees now, eyes, nose and mouth bobbing in the water and my knees were cold. Shirley’s red head loomed over me. She was talking, but I could barely make it out—she was leaving, and I’d be okay, something like that. She disappeared, shutting the door behind her I realized when I’d sat up. The water was tinged, streaked with the little bit of blood from my murderous hands. Leaning back again against the cold porcelain, I remembered another time my mama had run me a bath.
    It was only a couple of years after the bike incident. I was thirteen, and I’d gotten home from a school dance. My friends and I had walked home—you could back then. We only lived a couple of