Read Bumpy Ride (Category 5 Knights MC Romance Book 3) for Free Online Page B

so tired. I hate the evening shift. Driving home, I remember I have nothing but healthy food in the house. Who cares? I don’t want healthy food right now, I need sugar, grease, downright sinful indulgence.
    Instead of driving home and rolling into bed, I stop for groceries.
    Nothing like ice cream and blueberries to paste the cracks of a shattered heart. My plan is to sit in front of the television and eat myself into a stupor. If ice cream doesn't do the trick, I'll turn to chocolate.
    As soon as I turn the corner to my street, I realize my plans are going to have to wait. There's one truck and two bikes in my driveway. One is my father's Harley.
    The second I’m parked, Earplugs rushes out of my house with a gun in his hand. I feel like an iron fist closing around my heart. This can't be good news. Despite the large smile he pastes on his face when he recognizes me, I'm filled with dread.
    Earplugs tucks his gun away in the back of his belt and takes my grocery bags. He's a sweet guy who should get his patch soon enough. For more than a year, he's been my father's trainee, so to speak. His favorite prospect.
    Before Baby Jack was born a few months ago, Daniel, Earplugs's real name, was the son Dad always dreamed of having. My sisters and I were ambivalent about him. On one hand we were jealous. On the other, we were happy Dad had someone devoted to him. It never hurts to have a true friend looking out for you when you're in his line of business.
    "Brains?" I ask using my father's nickname in the MC. Earplugs nods and follows me as I rush into my house.
    "How bad?"
    "We're not sure," he says looking into the grocery bags "Why don't you go see him. I'll put this away."
    I throw my handbag on the table as I run past toward the bedroom. Toward Dad. Lobster and Waxer are standing by the bed tending, to my father. He's flat on his back, white as my sheets. On the floor by the bed, most of my towels have been thrown in a pile, soaked in blood.
    Lobster catches me watching the towels and tries to reassure me. "Most of the blood's not his," he says. "The guy he was fighting fell on him and he was bleeding like a pig."
    I take a step closer to the bed and notice that someone had the good idea to rip out my shower curtain to protect the bed. Sending a silent thanks to whomever was so thoughtful, I examine my father's body.
    Other than the wound beneath the blood soaked towel, Waxer’s presses tightly, he looks fine. Or fine as can be, anyway. There are a few cuts but nothing significant.
    "Why did you bring him here?"
    The two men turn their eyes away and remain silent. Their cowardliness infuriates me. Nothing in my tone implied I was questioning their decision. I'm asking a simple question. What I want to know is why they didn't drive him to the clubhouse where they have a serious first aid kit, or better yet, to the hospital.
    "It's a bullet wound," Earplugs explains.
    So much for taking him to the hospital. The doctors would need to report it, and the club probably doesn't need to wave any red flag at the authorities.
    There's only so much Everest can sweep under the rug.
    Lobster's face is redder than usual, almost crimson. Staring at the point of his boots, he mumbles, "We figured that since the bullet went through, as soon as he would stop bleeding, he would be fine."
    "But the most important thing is that no one will come looking for him in this house," Earplugs says. "Before he passed out, Brains told me the deed was still in your grandma's name. So if anyone comes to investigate, they may go next door." He points at my mother's house through the window. "But they won't come here."
    "Unless you leave your bikes and the truck in front of my door," I retort.
    Waxer curses under his breath, "Oh fuck, you're right. I never thought about that."
    It doesn't surprise me. These two guys are not the sharpest knives in the MC's drawers. Yet they’re loyal as fuck to my dad. Enough that he clearly trusts them with his life.
    "Is