Read The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) for Free Online Page B

Lennon’s food is gone, so is she.
    I cleaned up the kitchen. Been a while since I’d washed a dish. She’s been doing God knows what in the bathroom for the last hour or so. I gave up on getting in there and threw on a pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt, boots, and my cut.
    “I’m outta here,” I say through the bathroom door, but I get nothing in response. I take it as my cue that she could care less. Good, I’ve got work to do. She’s a big girl.  I’m sure she can fend for herself.

    It’s Friday so we had church. I drank two beers, talked with Dan and Big Ben, and now I’m out back, getting some work done.
    A few years ago I worked twelve-hour days, seven days a week—putting in time, building a clientele, making a name for myself. I worked on everything from lawn mowers, bikes, cars, and boat motors. I spent a long damn time working way too fucking hard to have a good business.
    I built my business up and now I only take on projects worth my time, things that interest me. I call myself a mechanic most of the time, but sometimes, I swear to fuck, I’m a damn engineer with the broken down pieces of shit some of these clients bring me. I work my magic, charge the big bucks, and work a few hours a day a couple days a week. It’s a good fucking life.
    Knuckles deep in a cherry Twin Cam, I feel someone walk up behind me and linger. Tightening a bolt, I pull myself away and look over at Poncho who’s hanging back, rocking on his heels, looking like he’s got something to say.
    “Yeah?” What the fuck does this asshole want?
    “How’s it goin’?” he asks, smiling.
    “It’s goin’. What the fuck you doin’, man?” I ask him, scratching at my beard, trying to think of a reason he’d be over here bothering me. Is he hard up for some cash?
    “Lennon, huh?” He hints.
    Fuck. I should’ve known it was only a matter of time before someone asked. Figured I’d get at least a few days before the questions started.
    “Lennon, what? You got something to say or ask, get on with it.” I don’t have time for games with this dipshit.
    “You smash it yet?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and everyone in the shop erupts into laughter. Here we go.
    Leaning back against the toolbox, I wait for his smartass comments. Standing in the shop down at the bar, I look at him, wondering if I heard him right. Smash that? What, are we in high school? It’s been one fucking night. Was I supposed to jump on the broad the second she was inside my house?
    “Nope.” Is all I give him. The motherfucker is digging for dirt, but he’s about to find himself with a face full of fist if he doesn’t mind his own goddamn business.
    “What do you mean, nope?” Tyler hollers over at me, pulling his head out from under a hood.
    “You got pussy in your bed ‘n you’re tellin’ me you ain’t even sampled it?” Rock adds. Fuck, I’m not an animal. I can control myself around women.
    “Shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask Rock.
    “No.”
    “So you sample it, puss bag?”
    “Sample it?” I never noticed how fucking stupid these assholes sound sometimes until they start pointing there stupid in my direction.
    “Ya know, dabble ‘n shit.” No, I don’t know and I’m not trying to find out. I fuck, plain and simple. No frills, no fuss, and no muss. I don’t fucking ‘dabble.’
    “Shut the fuck up.”
    Mossy, Tyler, Rock, and Poncho start laughing and carrying on about dabbling in pussy; who does what, and how good they do it. They’re all full of shit. If they spent half as much time working as they do yapping about pussy, we’d get a lot more shit done.
    “I’ll dabble it for ya,” Mossy offers, cupping his cock. Nasty fucker.
    I’ve got to get the fuck out of here and away from all this stupid.
    “The fuck you will.” Lennon is not here for the picking. She’s not free game, and she isn’t hopping from bed to bed. These motherfuckers can find what they want somewhere else.
    “Oh, someone’s a little