Read Cutter's Hope for Free Online Page A

and I felt my face crush down into a frown. I did not like how he’d seemingly just plucked that from my mind.
    “Anyways, I didn’t start it. I just took over. Original guy who started it was a dude named Mac. Ran it completely different, when he died of cancer, I sort of stepped up.”
    “Sorry, that sucks he died.”
    “Naw, Mac was a bastard if there ever was one. This club was an anemic, half-assed version of what a club should be when I took over. Took me a couple of years but I got everyone on board with my way of thinking. It’s pretty much the brotherhood it was always meant to be now.”
    “I’m not gonna lie, I have no idea how it all works,” I told him and he nodded.
    “I suppose I could tell you a few things,” he said and we turned into the marina’s parking lot. He paused, steps faltering.
    “The thing about MC’s that you have to understand, is that one, we don’t play by civilian rules. We make our own rules – form a bond with our brothers more profound than blood. It goes beyond honor and loyalty. I’d do anything for my brothers and they’d do anything for me. It’s the way it works.” He started us walking again and we passed the harbormaster’s office.
    “A lot like the bond you share with your unit,” I said nodding.
    “Stronger than even that, Sweetheart. I may be willing to die for the next man in my unit, but I’m willing to do a lot worse for one of my brothers. You get me?” he asked. He took me down one of the docks and he stopped short in front of one of the sailboats.
    “I don’t think I understand that one, I mean what could be worse than dying for the next man?” I searched his face which shut down some as he searched mine. The clouds of whatever he was thinking obscured his true intentions before he flashed that blinding panty melting smile of his. I knew that was all I was going to get for now, still, some insight was better than no insight at all and he’d certainly given me food for thought.
    “Here we are, home sweet home,” he said with a grand gesture at what must have been his boat. No idea if it was his home too. I let him help me up even though I didn’t need it. It was kind of nice that he was a gentleman, not only given that he was a biker, but more because you just didn’t find many these days. Granted, I was a tough chick and as women’s lib and progressive as they came, but there was something… charming about being treated like a lady by a man who I was almost certain knew what I was capable of. Most guys did it out of habit, or to be condescending, but for Cutter, well, it felt like a natural extension of who he was and I liked that. I liked that probably way too much.
    There were a couple of canvas chairs, a rich wood to match the decking of the sailboat. The backs and seats to the chairs were sun bleached like I would imagine the sails to be, though with the sails in their downed state, there was no really telling. A small table sat between the two chairs by the white painted chain railing and the set up looked both intimate and homey.
    “Have a seat, Sweetheart. You like red or white?” he asked.
    I took a seat and placed my white, rhinestone studded purse by my feet, careful not to make it clunk and give away the presence of the concealed handgun inside.
    “White, please?”
    “Girl after my own heart, back in a sec.”
    Cutter disappeared down below deck and I closed my eyes. It was still warm out here, a slight breeze coming in off the water. I listened to it lap against the hull of the boat, the distant thrum and bump of bar music from the Boulevard and the metallic clinging sound and rustle and snap of the flags in the breeze was a soothing thing that I could probably get used to if I ever got to settle down.
    I had to hand it to Cutter, this wasn’t a bad way to live. Peaceful in fact. I opened my eyes when I heard his tread on the deck, appreciative that he wasn’t trying to be quiet or sneak up on me. He set two wine glasses