His Unwanted Wife, The Secret Biker Boss

n Colli

ap motor oil and stale beer-an

flew up in front of my face. Calloused fingertips. Grease-stain

the day before every

e brass doorknob rattled, then the cheap wood c

ptain of the Salinas charter. He smelled of cheap to

ce. He tossed a leather

ghting a cigarette. "I already talked to the table.

urled agains

ng a copied formula, while my trucks secretly moved the real antibiotics through a blizzard

hings. I stayed in the dim corner

He stepped forward, using

"Kristina saved the entire charter during the West Plains ambu

A razor-thin smi

but steady as iron. "Those four crates of expired penici

d. His fists clench

hit my cheek. "You hide up here counting petty shop receipts while she was out th

d up s

s with an amber stare so cold the air

nk, there's nothing I c

er cut he had thrown on the bed, and shoved i

sed to my compliance, my quiet compromises to keep his garag

the hallway. Kristina's breathy v

e," she pleaded, hovering just outside the threshold

doorway, his harsh expression m

oftly. "Nobody in this clubhouse i

p nausea churned in my gut, but my right hand drifted casually to the ni

to me, his feat

he ordered. "And you will vote yes. Don't pus

river and offered him

t Church. I'll give you bo

us of how easily I gave in, but

y found some sen

e the door. The sound of his boots a

and turned the brass de

fell de

down, and pulled out the bottom drawer completely. Behind

three-digit

y three spare shop keys and an

sport network I had built from the dirt up, the empire I had kept hi

een illuminate the dark room, and sent a sin

e all blind capital injections to

lashed: Mess

my chest, listening to the muffl

sn't going to be Kr

be the start o