Free Never Ever: Book One Perdition MC by Isabel Wroth Page A

snorted the sip
of coffee he’d just taken? He spluttered and pulled his hand down his face to
get the spray off his lips, looking at her in amazement and then back to the
bird. “You did that?” She nodded, reaching out to pluck a dead leaf from where
it had gotten stuck in some of the metal twists. “Dad taught me how to use a
blow torch when I was a kid, I wanted to help him work on the bikes and cars
they brought into the garage. One of the only times he ever told me no. I
figure they were chopping them or something, so I started doing little art
projects. After they were all gone, needed something to do to keep me busy, got
better at it, and when I put stuff up out here, people started buying it. The
kids that come out here with their parents know I’ll buy scrap metal from them,
or things they dig up from their yards, like railroad ties, or old silverware
or something. They bring me cool stuff, I make this. One kid’s dad puts shoes
on horses, the kid rides his bike two miles, brings me a huge box of old shoes
once a week and I give him twenty bucks. He’s saving up for a car when he turns
sixteen. He’s eight.”
     
    He looked at her like she’d just done something to blow his
socks off, so she ignored him and kept walking. Her people were walking around
helping customers, kids were running around screaming with streamers and
whacking at her big wind chimes. Those would need to come down today, a storm
was blowing in. “Hey Todd?” She shouted, and the beanie wearing hipster popped
up from behind some hydrangea bushes on the other side of the berry patches. He
planted a hand on his hip, gave her a droll look and unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt to wiggle at her. “Oh, right.”
She unclipped hers and pushed the button, having totally forgotten that she’d
gotten these for everyone to make life a little easier. “Sorry. I need the big
chimes down by tonight, storms blowing in according to the radar.”
    “On it, boss.”
    “Do not, crash the forklift into my koi pond again.”
     
    She saw him turn a ruddy red from across the property, give
her a salute and hustled towards the equipment shed. “He crashed the forklift
into your koi pond?” She shot Roar a dirty look at his
amused, disbelieving drawl. “Some piece of ass flashed him some side boob. He
crashed.” His answering laugh was hilarious, she just rolled her eyes and
headed for the front of the shop. It was inventory day, and with Annie fired,
she had a slot that needed filling. Great. Trudy, her part time shop girl fresh
out of high school, visibly creamed her panties. “Hey Trudy, got my inventory
list?” Trudy hustled to get it for her, then went back to batting her eyelashes
at Roar. He looked amused, so she left him to it and went back to her office,
leaving the door open because she was totally eavesdropping. “Hi again, Mr.
Morningstar! Back for more grass?” Trudy was adorable, and very friendly, but
her attempt to be cool while flirting still needed some work.
     
    Morningstar ? She mouthed to her papers, what the hell kind of name was
that? “Nope. I’m good, kid. Thanks. Babe, need the keys to your Jeep.” She
looked up from counting the number of squash starter packs she’d sold last
month and blinked at Roar, leaning in the doorway to her office, smirking at
her. “Why?”  
    “Need to haul some stuff and the prospects have the truck.”
    “Legal stuff?”
    “Babe.”
     
    Bikers communicated a lot in varied one word answers, and
that babe , was a droll, ‘are you serious’ tone. “What? I don’t know your
business. And it’s my Jeep.” He rolled his eyes at her, “We’ll talk about my
business later. Got some stuff of mine that won’t fit on my bike.” She hoped he
wasn’t going to haul exercise equipment, or furniture saturated with the scent
of spilled beer, pussy and smoke into her clean house. She’d set that shit on
fire if that was the case. “Keys in the cup holder inside.” His