Techy (Devil Souls MC Book 2)(10)

Guilt starts to nag at me because I feel like I should be helping him, but it hurts me to even get out of bed. I don’t want to take my pain pills unless it’s necessary because of my background. Both of my parents were messed up because of drugs and I don’t want to become an addict.

Fifteen minutes pass before Jordan comes back into the room with two plates of food. Under his arms are a jug of milk and two cups. He sets one of the plates on the coffee table and then the drinks.

“Here, angel.” He sets the plate onto my lap.

My mouth waters at the sight of eggs, bacon, and sausage. I grab my fork and start digging in, moaning out loud at the taste. This is so good! I grab the piece of bacon and eat half of it in one bite. I don’t stop eating until my plate is completely empty. I set my plate on the coffee table, not even caring that the movement hurts me. I lie back and hold my stomach, stuffed.

“I have to go to the club for a bit today to do some work. You okay being alone for two or three hours?” Jordan asks me.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just cuddle up on the couch and watch Cops,” I reassure him.

“Want to watch TV in bed so you will be close to the bathroom?”

When I nod, Jordan walks over to me. He lifts me into his arms and carries me up the stairs. He gently sets me on his bed. He goes into his closet, grabs some clothes, and walks into the bathroom. I grab the TV remote and turn the TV on. I scroll through the channels until I find Cops again.

Jordan is in the bathroom for at least thirty minutes. He comes out freshly showered and looking amazing in jeans that hug his thighs, but they aren’t those tight skinny jeans I hate. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and has his cut on top of that.

He walks over to me and kisses me on the forehead. “Be good.” He winks at me and walks out.

I turn back to the TV, and then I hear a motorcycle start up and drive way. My bad boy. I grin to myself and watch TV. It might seem excessive to watch Cops so much, but I went so long without a TV. I want to binge-watch it now.





I sure as hell didn’t want to drive away from her. I feel like I’m hovering over her, but I can’t seem to help it. Seeing her so fucking hurt eats at me every second of the day. I want to bring her father back and slowly kill him over and over again.

I live about fifteen minutes away from the club. My job there is doing all the technology, which I do down in the basement. My mind stays on Alisha the whole ride there. I pull up in front of the gate and one of the prospects lets me in. The gate shuts as soon as my back wheels in. We have the bulletproof shit here for a reason.

I park my bike next to my brother’s and climb off. When I walk inside the clubhouse, Vin, Trey, and Butch are sitting at a table, shooting the shit. I walk over to them and sit in the free seat. They all look at me as I sit.

“How is she?” Trey asks.

“She’s good, man. She hurts when she moves, but she is looking better,” I tell him.

Butch is staring around the room, glaring at anything and everyone. He’s a good fucking man, but he’s crazy if you cross him. Trey is looking at some prospects behind us who are laughing. Vin is staring at Trey. Sometimes, I think they are into each other—not that it would matter either way.

“She yours?”



I look at Butch, surprised he even said anything. “Fuck yeah, she’s mine. My cut is going on her as soon as she’s better,” I say bluntly and grin at the crazy fucker.

He nods.

“Hey, man. Where you been?”

I turn toward whoever is yelling. It’s one of the men who hangs around and has been wanting a chance to join the club, but it won’t ever happen. He’s a wannabe.

“That pussy must have been fucking good to keep you occupied for days. So, when you going to bring her around so I can have a go?” He busts out laughing and grabs his crotch.

I see red.

“Dead man,” Butch says loudly.

“Fuck, man. Run!” a prospect yells.

I’m out of my chair within two seconds and in the face of the man who dared to insult my woman. I grab him by his throat, squeezing with all my might. His face immediately turns purple. I drag him across the room and into one of the empty interrogation rooms. I let him go and reach above my head for the chains. I put them around his wrists and lift the chains so he is hanging by his arms.

“What did I do?” the guy yells. Then he starts pleading when he sees the expression on my face.

“You insulted my woman,” I snarl and cock my fist before punching him hard in the face.

His face snaps back and a tooth hits the floor. It will be one of many. I punch him again and again until there are thirteen teeth on the floor. One for every word he said that I didn’t fucking like.