Reverence: MC Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Yeah, something like that.”

    “Just stick by my side and answer their questions. I promise they won’t be too harsh.”  

    I heard the indistinct chatter of voices as we got closer to the door. As soon as we pushed through, though, the voices all died away in an instant. A dozen bikers looked at me as if I were the Devil herself. They were tattooed, bearded, and all wearing the Rising Sons’ cut. On top of all of that, they looked pissed as hell. I might as well have been my father in that moment. I saw hatred, disgust, and even lust. I couldn’t blame them for being angry, but they were animals.

    One man stepped forward with a tight, forced smile on his face. “Welcome.” Nothing could ever sounded less welcoming in my entire life. “The name’s Trask.”

    Even without looking at his cut, I knew that Trask Rivers ran the Rising Sons. If I had a nickel for every time my dad cursed his name, I’d have my tuition paid for. Captain had called Trask every name in the book, but I never really knew why. There never seemed to be much reason besides hating them only because they existed.

    He extended a hand, and I took it. “I’ve heard your name once or twice.” I don’t know whether my attempt at being cool passed, but maybe it was more for me than for them.

    After a firm shake, he broke and turned back to his men. “Well, how about that? I’m famous.” Some of the men chuckled, but most of them didn’t take their eyes off me. Maybe I should’ve been a little more humble, I don’t know.

    “All right, all right. Don’t treat her like she’s her father.” Romero’s voice was cold, and I loved hearing him stick up for me. It made me feel like I was his.

    Trask turned back to me, any humor in his face completely gone. “So you know a thing or two about this here club. I think that’s as good a place to start as any, don’t you?”

    My eyes widened, and my heartbeat found even more speed. What kind of info did they want? “Look, I really don’t know much. My father bitches and moans about the Rising Sons twenty-four/seven, but it’s not like he goes into specifics with me.”

    “What’s the yearly take?”  

    Before I could look to who had spoken, another biker chimed in, “What kind of weapons have they got squirreled away?”

    A husky voice filled with distain said, “Who do they have in their pocket?”  

    I tried to follow the voices, but the questions came at me way too fast for me to handle. The tone was harsh from every biker in the joint.

    “How long you been fucking Romero?”

    Trask put his hands up. “All right, this isn’t the fuckin’ Spanish Inquisition. She’s not in the club, so let’s not grill her like she is. I wanna hear her story, and we’ll go from there, capische?“

    He looked around the room, but none of the bikers said a word. “That’s what I thought. Treat her like a damn lady, for fuck’s sake.” Trask turned to me, motioning toward a chair. “Why don’t you tell us your story, little darlin’?”

    As if my heart wasn’t racing enough, now I had to tell them my life’s story? Even Romero wasn’t enough to keep me from going crazy. I still felt like I was in the lion’s den.

    When I finally took a seat, I couldn’t stand to look at anyone but Romero. Any time my eyes scanned over the room, I kept them over the heads of the other Sons. I couldn’t make myself meet any of their hard gazes.

    I gave them a quick retelling. It wasn’t like I could give them a long one anyway. I didn’t know much about the club. The most valuable piece of information I had was that my dad had recently lost a big connection.

    “The head honcho . That’s all my dad ever called him. I didn’t know if it was guns or drugs. With the deal he was trying to arrange with Harris, guns would be my guess.”  

    Trask stepped in, saying, “It actually is drugs. The head honcho was a distributor by the name of Blythe. He brought the product over from South