The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) Read Online Free PDF Page A

know what that means, you don’t need to know what it means.”
    “Fine…be
mysterious. I’ll just google it then.”
    “You won’t like
what you find.” He replies mysteriously.
    “Then why don’t
you tell me.” I ask, getting a little ticked off at him for being so cagey.
    “Just Google
it.”
    “Fine!”
    I grab my
Google Glass, glasses and put them on. Fifteen seconds later I have my answer
on both what the filthy few means and the 1%er patch. The filthy few patch
means he has killed for the club and the 1%er patch means that they are an
outlaw motorcycle club. Apparently only one percent of all clubs are outlaw
clubs and only outlaw clubs wear that patch.
    “You’re a
fucking criminal!” I conclude.
    “Did I not say
you wouldn’t like what you found?” He asks.
    “Yeah…it’s just
too bad you didn’t have the balls to just tell me.” I retort.
    “Well it’s none
of your fucking business!”
    “Hey, as long
as you’re playing nursemaid I have a right to know who is watching over me.”
    “Then why don’t
you leave?”
    “Maybe I
fucking will!”
    I start to get
up so I can storm out of the house in a dramatic fashion but my crutches are
nowhere in sight. He correctly discovers my plight.
    “Ah, so you
need me to get your crutches do you?”
    “Yes I need my
fucking crutches! Where the hell are they?”
    When they don’t
magically appear I unwisely decide to get up anyway and just hop to wherever
they are. I get up just fine, but it takes about two seconds for me to lose my
balance and I go down hard on his coffee table. It’s a pretty sturdy wooden one
and it hurts like fuck! Suddenly the floor is littered with magazines, my laptop,
my papers, and a tall glass of ice and Red Bull. I wind up wedged between the
couch and the table. My leg hurts worse than the day it was broken which makes
me wonder if I have re-broken it.
    “Fuck!” I
scream in pain and frustration. “Mother fucking fuck!”
    “Don’t move!”
He shouts as he hurries to my side. “I’ll help you get back to the couch.
You’ll need to elevate your leg again.” He says as he kneels at me side.
    He shoves his
coffee table and books off to the side so he can get to my side. Then without
asking he just scoops me up like a baby with one arm under my legs and the
other under my arms and he sets me gently back on the couch. Then he grabs a
hand full of pillows and props my leg up higher than my head which actually
does wonders for my leg pain. Then he puts a pillow under my head. For a big
strong guy he can be amazingly gentle. He fusses over me like my mother used to
do when I was a kid. Like she used to do before cancer took her when I was
thirteen.
    And just like
that I’m back home fifteen years ago and I’m bursting into her room with
breakfast on a tray. It’s her birthday and I have just made her breakfast. I
made her favorite, eggs over hard, crispy bacon, and a tall glass of orange
juice. I remember balancing the try in one hand praying I wouldn’t spill it
while I was opening the door. I didn’t spill it; not yet anyways. I remember
bursting into the room.
    “Happy birthday
mama!” I shouted as I whisked my way into her room, past the different medical
paraphernalia, taking great care not to trip on anything.
    “Happy B-Day
mama! Wake up; it’s your special day!”
    I thought it
was a little odd that she didn’t wake right up. She’s always been a light
sleeper. The slightest thing will usually wake her up; but not this morning.
    “Mama?”
    I didn’t want
to believe it. No way could she have died on her birthday. Holding the tray in
one hand I put my hand on her shoulder meaning to give her a little shake to
wake her up. But when I touched her bare shoulder…that’s when I dropped the
breakfast tray! Her shoulder was icy cold. Even then I couldn’t believe it. I
was thirteen years old and I was going to spend the day with my mom on her
birthday and she couldn’t even live long enough to do