Bash (Dirty Sinners #0) Read Online Jaycee Wolfe

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Dirty Sinners Series by Jaycee Wolfe
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Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
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Bash:
Being locked up for the last five years wasn’t as hard as some might think. Only one thing in this life could make it hell: not being able to hop on my bike and just drive. To feel the road under my wheels, the wind, and the sun on my face, no windshield to block the view. Yeah, that’s what I missed the most. I missed my club and my brothers, but I missed the freedom my bike gave me the most. That’s why I decided to hit the road the minute they told me I was getting released. Only packing what was absolutely necessary and just driving, not knowing where I was going or when I would be back. I didn’t realize those necessities included a petite blonde bombshell with a tiny waist but an attitude the size of my engine. I didn’t know throwing caution to the wind and bringing along my little guest would cause so much uproar with my club… then again, when I took her, I didn’t realize who she was or what she meant to my club. Five years is a long time to be out of the loop, but now that she’s on the back of my bike, wrapped around me, ain’t no way I’m giving her up. For anyone.

Lyra:
Living in this small town has never been my dream. I always wanted to get away. Away from this boring life, this boring town, and my overbearing brothers. I don’t trust bikers. I don’t trust their clubs. I don’t trust my own flesh and blood. Trust issues? Sure, but it’s kept me whole this long. So why do I trust the handsome biker that shows up at my work one day and offers me everything I could ever want? A way out of this town. Just to ride, no plans, no worries. Just take off into the sunset. Call it crazy, but I’m going to call it living.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

Prologue

Bash

Age Nineteen:

Following my Prez and three other club brothers through the empty warehouses outside of Nashville, something in my gut tells me to turn around—to get my brothers out of here. We drove over five hundred miles to get here to make this deal. We haven't done business with the Chaos & Crossfire before. Still, while it may seem sketchy to those on the right side of the law, their reputation tells us we can trust them as far as gun runners go.

Another cold chill slides up my neck as Reaper, our Prez, pulls his bike in front of our new business buddies. Slowly, he swings his leg over his bike, and we all dismount, following suit. We stand at his back, showing our loyalty and ensuring they know we will fuck them up if they try to play us. Reaper hasn't been on many runs since taking over as Prez, but he wanted a front-row seat with this business deal. I’m only months out of my Prospect phase for the club and investing in my own business. It may only be a tiny old gas station, but I’ve taken it from run-down to classic in the last six months, and I'm damn proud of it. I prospected for the club at eighteen, right out of high school, and they helped me fulfill my dreams.

Before we had our clubs, some family shit went down with my cousin, changing everything about our lives. At one point, we were the boys next door. Nice young men who went to church, helped carry grocery bags for the town's older ladies, all that jazz. Then some fuckers decided it was a good idea to ruin my cousin's body and essentially his life. We both changed after that, and he joined the Reckless Omens MC. They are not quite into the illegal shit we are, but still have their specialties. My path brought me to the Dirty Sinners. I wish I could have protected my family, but it's his life and his story he has to lead.

“You weren't followed?” Razor, the Chaos & Crossfire Prez, asks Reaper.

“Do we look like fucking amateurs?” Reaper growls at the disrespect.

“Sorry, man, a few of our rides and deals have been shut down by the cops in this fucking city. We can't figure out how they keep getting to us,” Razor says, and again, that feeling comes back, but this time in full force.

“Ever cross your mind you got a rat?” Reaper asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My brothers are fucking loyal, no way…” He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before the sound of sirens blaring comes from the direction we pulled in.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Reaper yells before we all scramble to our bikes. The Chaos & Crossfire are doing the same, but I couldn’t give two fucks about those fuckers. My main concern is my club. My family.


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