WORTH THE WAIT (Southside Skulls Nomads #5)

Avery

Ibrushed my hair so I wouldn't have to look into my eyes. Long, slow strokes. Counting them like a kid counting sheep. Anything to avoid the mirror.

But time was ticking, so I looked.

Angry and empty.

"Shit." I should've been thanking God. I was only twenty-seven and wanted to put my fist through the glass.

I started painting my face. Light lipstick and SPF foundation to save my skin from the wind. Nothing fancy. The road was already carving its lines into my face.

I looked down at the Southside Skulls card on my counter.

Best bike mechanics in Boston, or so I'd been told.

My Bonnie was running rough and I had to get to Rocky Neck.

Ninety minutes if I took 1A North along the coast, fifty if I hammered the interstate.

I always took the coast. The scenery stole my thoughts better than anything I could buy.

The plan was simple. Hit the Skulls and get the bike checked, then drop into town for the next thing on my list, and get gone.

My Bonneville Bobber didn't carry much, so I packed light. Daisy Dukes, a black crop top, two pairs of panties, and a water bottle. The Skulls card, some cash, and a bandana left over from Dino.

Dino. The last guy out of my life.

Fucker.

I'd thought he might go the distance, but me and men? Oil and water. Every fucking time. I didn't do pussy either, so I guessed that was why I rode a bobber. Solo saddle. Party of one.

I swung my leg over, settled into the leather, inserted the key and clicked.

Nothing.

Fuck.

I slapped the tank. Like that ever helped anything except bruise my palm.

I turned it again, and this time I heard the whine of injectors priming. I pulled the clutch tight against the grip, hit the starter with my thumb, and 1,200cc of twin power erupted. Custom pipes snapping a crisp mechanical bark into the cool morning air.

She was running rough, but life was rough, so what did I expect.