The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

coffee table, dirty dishes in the sink, clean clothes piled on a chair, and an empty pizza box on the table, but it’s not gross, it’s lived in. It’s cozy and it’s home ... for now. 
    Opening the old pine wooden door, the living room is the first thing you see. A large river rock fireplace sits between two floor-to-ceiling windows in desperate need of a cleaning. The living room is outfitted with a worn, creased and cracked leather couch, a plaid recliner, and a ring stained, dented wood coffee table. There are no decorations or personal effects, just a practical space with the basics.
    A dated, country style kitchen with a small breakfast nook is off the living room. The appliances are old, but functional, assuming the food-crusted pot is from recently cooking. It’s nothing special, but it’s a place to lay my head at night.
    There is one bedroom and one bathroom down a small hall at the back of the house. A mud room / laundry room has a door that leads out into the overly green wilderness.
    One bedroom means we’re sharing or taking turns, or whatever Buck has planned. I’m in no position to argue with the sleeping arrangements. I’ll sleep wherever he wants to put me. I’m not picky.
    Buck offered me the bed and I didn’t argue. I crawled in and got comfortable. This was going to be my life, my normal, for now.

    I wake with a start the next morning, my mind fogged over from sleep and my eyes blurry. Instantly I sit up, wondering where the fuck I am until my mind settles. I’m in Oregon, in the middle of nowhere, up on a mountain with my stranger.
    Kicking the mismatched mess of sheets and blankets off me, I plant my feet on the cold hardwood floor. It’s cooler this morning, thank God.
    Dropping to my knees, I lift the blankets that have fallen off, place them back on the bed, and peek under the bed. I sigh in relief when I see my shit there. I feel neurotic, always checking, but it is what it is. I’m too hungry to ponder my medical misgivings.
    Opening the bedroom door, I take a tentative step into the hall. Not real sure what I’m nervous about. I guess in the light of day, this all seems a little different.
    Walking into the living room, I see it’s empty. The same goes for the kitchen. A deserted blanket and pillow on the couch are the only indication that Buck was here at all. Well what to do now? I’m hungry, but helping myself seems kind of rude, so in search of Buck I must go.
    Standing on the old porch, I survey the property in the daylight. Miles of dense green surrounds the small house. It’s beautiful up here, so green and fresh. Nothing but wild, untamed wilderness.
    I wonder where the hell Buck could’ve run off to. A minute later, a loud whack comes from a giant shop off in the distance and I know that’s where I’ll find him. It’s a dilapidated metal-sided shop, and I use the word shop loosely.
    Padding through the dewy yard and down a dirt path, I wander up to the rusted sliding doors and peek inside. Sure enough, Buck is in there with an axe in his big hands. He brings it up and over his shoulder, each muscle and tendon stretching and straining when he brings it back down into a big round piece of wood at his feet. The metal head meets the wood with a sharp whack, making me flinch. The wood cracks, but doesn’t split. Bringing it back up, Buck swings again, hitting the first spot perfectly. The wood splinters and cracks down the middle, falling to the ground around the big stump.
    Swallowing hard, I stare even harder. Jesus, he’s even more of what I consider as everything in the light of day.
    He’s wearing a greasy stained pair of coveralls, folded over at the waist and nothing else. He’s a fucking sight. He’s dirty, sweaty, and so fucking sexy, it’s disturbing. I also notice that he’s missing those glasses.
    I have got to get a better look.
    Taking a few cautious steps into the shop, I stop, just inside the door. I have no clue what I’m doing, and I’m even