Read The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) for Free Online Page A

room.
    Lincoln was in bed, wearing only one of my T-shirts. Her gaze lingered on my bare chest before she smiled.
    I averted my eyes and said, “You’re not staying here.”
    “I overheard the guy in the hall say his truck isn’t working.”
    Since she didn’t appear to understand what type of message she was sending by lying half-dressed in the bed of a guy she just met, I assumed it was more of a naïve, sheltered sixteen-year-old girl mistake, not a slutty Hollywood starlet move. Regardless, she wasn’t sleeping over. “I’ll call you a cab.”
    She rolled onto her side and picked up a framed photo of Liv that I kept on my bedside table. “Is this why you don’t want me to stay?”
    “Yeah, one of the reasons. Get dressed.”
    Ignoring me, she picked up the book next to my lamp. “You read Jean-Paul Sartre?”
    “I’m trying, for an online English course I’m taking. It’s kind of depressing.” I threw my clothes in the hamper and pulled boxer briefs out of my drawer.
    “Yeah, it was a downer. I had to read this last year with my tutor. I didn’t really get it.”
    “Close your eyes for a second. I need to change.”
    She leaned back on the pillow with her face toward the ceiling and closed her eyes. “Who’s the girl in the picture?”
    “My girlfriend, Liv. You can open your eyes now.”
    She rolled on her side and bent her elbow to rest her head on her hand. “She’s pretty.”
    Not wanting to discuss Liv with her, I said, “You can use the bathroom when Crow’s finished, but it’s important none of the guys find out you’re here.”
    “Why?”
    “Just trust me.”
    “What kind of name is Crow?”
    I didn’t want anyone to hear her voice, so I pressed my finger to my lips to shush her. It didn’t work; she just moved on to the next question.
    “What does that tattoo on your back represent?”
    “Nothing.”
    She stood and stepped close enough to run her hand over it. Her fingers were soft and warm on my skin. “Southpaw,” she read the scrolled script. “Are you left-handed?”
    “No.” I turned so she wouldn’t be able to see it, and so she wasn’t touching me.
    “What’s the date for? Did someone you know die?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said and pulled a T-shirt on to cover the tattoo. “Go to the bathroom. I’m going to call you a cab.”
    “I’m exhausted. Can you please wait until the morning?”
    “No.”
    She exhaled in what sounded like a mixture of frustration and disappointment. “What are the chances you guys have a spare toothbrush?”
    “There’s a package of replacement heads for my electric toothbrush in the drawer.” I followed her to the door.
    “I think I can go to the bathroom by myself.”
    I stared at her mouth for longer than I intended before I answered, “Yeah, not in this house.”
    I popped my head out into the hall and shooed her toward the bathroom. She disappeared inside, and I stood guard outside the door, not because I thought any of the guys would hurt her. They would hassle us, though, relentlessly, and I wasn’t in the mood. They trash talked each other while they played cards.
    “Deal me in, I have to take a piss,” Gin said. My heart sped up when his chair scraped across the wood floor and his lumbering steps came closer. “Hey, Cain, what’s up?”
    “Nothing. How’s it going?”
    “I’m down two hundred and fifty bucks, but up six beers.”
    “Cool,” I said, trying to come up with a plan to distract him.
    “Why are you standing in the hall?” he asked as he looked suspiciously into my bedroom.
    “I’m not. I was just on my way to, um.” I inched in front of the bathroom door and scrambled for something to say that would make him go away. “I have the rent money for Mug. Do you mind giving it to him?”
    “Give it to him yourself. He’s in the living room.”
    “I don’t want to go in there. They’ll talk me into playing, and I really gotta get some sleep. Hold on.” I lunged into my room