Free FOUND: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel by Scarlet Korin

down next to him, surprised at what he was doing so openly. “Baby. What are you doing? You can't be opening these here. What if someone sees?”
    “Bitch!” He tossed the bag he held down into the seat between us making me jump. “I don't give a fuck. Who the fuck'll care?”
    “But what about Ez? I know you go back, but he's connected with the guys you're picking up from.” I placed my hand on his face to calm him down, but he instantly swiped my fingers away. At this point he was too drunk to reason with.
    “Fuck Ez. Fuck the pick up! Fuck those white boys up north. I ain't got nothing to worry 'bout. I want a bit of this and I'm going to have it.” His eyes stared up at me bloodshot and wide. The same stare as I saw in Blue's gaze only moments before.
    Without a shadow of a doubt he had been using. It's the reason why he now acted so irrational with this risky behavior. That said, while I sat next to him with arms crossed equally as frustrated as he was at the bags, it was beyond my comprehension. How could someone be so stupid as to do this here? The skimming off the top from the Sinners was bad enough, but being this reckless was on another level.
    But, of course, this was Jerome. Him acting this was has become a common occurance. It used to only be when he was high. Now this is how he is all the time.
    I sighed in resignation. “Here. Let me help you. My nails can get through it. You'll get it everywhere if you keep ripping like that.” I took the bag from his hands and my nails tore through the tape and plastic instantly. A light haze of white powder rose up into the air between us.
    “Yes, yes, yes!” He cried out. Snatching the opened bag from me without even a thank you. Like a man possessed he raised the pile to his nose and took a huge snort. “Fuck... That's what I needed.”
    Right then he was more pig in a trough than man. Coke was everywhere. On his fingers, face and covering the back seat.
    “Uh-huh,” I replied. I leaned back in the seat. Tired from the travel, tired from the drinking, tired from life.
    “ Shit ... I can see why they're paying me so much for the delivery when it's this pure. Fuck... I ain't had anything like this for a long ass time.”
    I took two cigarettes from my purse and lit them between my lips. “Want a smoke? How about you put that away and we go back inside?”
    “No chance in hell. I'm going to be enjoying some of this tonight.” He fumbled for a piece of paper in his pocket, maybe a check. Carefully, and with surprising focus, he tipped cocaine into it before wrapping it up.
    His actions made no sense. Why was it only me who could see that this would lead to ruin? Boyd and his crew up in Midnight had offered him a huge amount of cash for a delivery. A simple delivery – a quick drive. Why wasn't that enough for him? Why did he have to scam and be so foolish?
    It was enough to make me lose it. And I did. “Jerome, do you have to do this? Think about what you're doing. And out in the open. It's crazy. Ez'll have more coke than sense inside. Get some from him.”
    He glared at me intently and with absolute disdain. “Chill, bitch. I don't need your worthless fucking opinion for anything. I'd get more wisdom out of a fucking dog... Now shut that whore grill or I'm going to bust it.”
    “Do you---”
    He stopped my sentence mid flow with words that radiated hatred. “Quit it... or you can drive that stupid motherfucking ass of yours back to the hotel...”
    We fell into silence and he took another snort. Then another.
    I hated him treating me in this way, but after years of it I felt powerless to react. My gaze fell to the floor unable to meet his. Malice and vicious aggression radiated through every pore of his body. I swear to god that if I spoke one more word then he would have lashed out and killed me.
    He broke the silence by laughing hysterically to himself in complete and utter contrast to his previous tone. “And anyway... That motherfucker Ez ain't