Free Striker (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 4) by Glenna Maynard Page B

I climb on behind him. Asshole . I was looking forward to having him naked and all to myself.  However, the idea of a new unsoiled mattress does make me content.
    One hour later Striker has a different mattress being delivered to his apartment and Colt and I are having dinner with my sister and Romeo’s kids. Not sure how she was dragged into helping, but I am glad that she is. From the sound of things, the kids aren’t telling anyone their mom is gone either. Not my place, I know I need to stay out of it. Romeo and LL are adults and I am not going to get in the middle of their shit. I can be neutral. I will be impartial.  Lord knows being married to a man like Romeo cannot be peaceful. The thought leads me to a road of doubt. Striker has never been faithful to one woman either. I’m not sure I can let myself be bound to another man, only to be left with a broken heart again.
    It has been nearly a year since Trouble died. It still hurts as though it happened yesterday. However, I can see that the love I had for Trouble is so much different from what I feel for Striker. Trouble was my best friend, Striker owns me, completely. I miss Trouble so much. I can only imagine what he would have to say about this crap, or better yet what song he would play for me to suit the situation.
    “Rumor, do you think…Never mind.” I shake my head. Bringing up Trouble will only make me sad and I already know her thoughts on Striker. He is her soon to be brother-in-law; she loves him and thinks he does no wrong. Maybe she sees the potential in him, the man I know he could be if he would try. I refuse to let us end up like our parents though.

9
     
    Romeo
    After getting Rumor to keep the kids for me, I set out to find my wife.  Five-O was right LL’s car is here, but she is not here right now. I have been watching the room she is staying in for three hours now with no activity. I am about ready to give up for the night when I see an expensive car pull into the lot, one that does not fit in at this hole in the wall of a motel. It is more like a motherfucking roachtel. No place for my wife to be staying. I watch a leggy blonde step from the passenger seat of the BMW. Fuck, it’s her. She has lost weight in just a month’s time. Her shapely physique now appearing gauntly. She is stick skinny. It is unattractive. Her cock-sucking boyfriend or drug dealer, whatever he is to her doesn’t stay, he flees after seeing she gets inside her room in one piece.
    Waiting an extra ten minutes, I approach her door. I don’t even know what to say to her. How in the fuck did we get this far-gone? I knock on the door lightly and step to the side so she can’t view me if she peers out the curtains. The dingy white door creaks open, my wife ganders out through the crack. A faint light hits the darkened cement floor just outside the entryway. She has allowed just enough room for the toe of my boot to fit through. “Got a minute,” I grit through my teeth anger coursing through my veins.
    Immediately upon instinct, she tries to slam the door in my face.
    “Big mistake sweetheart. You and I have some unfinished business.” I power my way in using the brunt of my strength, not caring that the swinging of the door nearly knocked the bitch on her ass. She has some clarifying to do. Rage is boring in my eyes as I stare her down with my piercing glare. She is dressed like a whore who has been out on the prowl for dick. She hasn’t dressed like this for me in years. In her tiny red dress, barely covers her ass. I’m not impressed. Damn shame to see her this way.
    “You don’t understand,” she holds her palms out trying to defend her trespasses. Track marks and bruises on her inner arms, has she no shame.
    “Is this what you want, to be a worthless nameless whore living in filth and when you die no one will even care.” I hold her firmly squeezing her arm harshly.
    “At least I don’t go around fucking young girls.” She spits at me.
    “Jesus you