Curly (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 1) - Page 117

Now when he envisioned his future, he couldn’t see anything but Brooke at his side, leading their new family through life.

His phone rang through the Bluetooth in his helmet, making his heart jolt in anticipation.

“Hello?”

“Curly! Hi! It’s so good to hear your voice. How’s Florida?”

Not Brooke, but his second favorite lady. “Hey, little miss. Florida is hot as balls. How are you and your ol’ man doing?”

“We’re good,” Holly said with excitement in her voice. “I only have a minute, but I wanted to let you know that I’m coming down for the patch-in ceremony. Actually, I think the majority of the club will be making the trip to celebrate your charter.”

A genuine smile spread across his face. “No shit? That’s awesome, Hols.” Copper and Zach had mentioned they’d come down to help him patch the guys in and formally establish the charter, but he hadn’t expected more than that. Having the entire HHMC supporting him meant the fucking world.

“So, who’s Brooke?” Holly asked with a teasing tone.

“Who told you about Brooke?” What the hell? MC gossip spread through the ol’ ladies faster than juicy tidbits at an old-fashioned hair salon.

“It was Chloe. Scott told her.”

He rolled his eyes as he steered his bike into the parking lot of a coffee shop where he planned to meet with Scott, Ty, and Pulse.

“Hey, hon, I gotta go. But I can’t fucking wait to see you.”

“Me either! And don’t think you’re getting out of the question. I want to know who Brooke is.”

“Goodbye.”

“And I better meet her!” Holly yelled right before he disconnected the call.

Chuckling, he pulled off his helmet. Holly would love Brooke and vice versa. All the HHMC women were tough as nails. Each had their own difficult histories, some truly tragic and some terrifying. They’d survived hardships, trauma, and loss and came out shining, just as Brooke had.

His phone chimed. After pulling it out of his pocket, his eyes widened at the sight of Brooke’s name. Just seeing her text on the screen had his heart going crazy in his chest. Here it came, the anger over his high-handedness with her fence. He couldn’t wait.

Chuckling, he opened the message. The lighthearted mood faded in an instant the second he read what she’d sent.

911. My house. Please.

Something was wrong. For Brooke to send an SOS message like that, something was terrifyingly wrong.

Curly glanced up to find Ty and Pulse waving at him from a window seat in the café. His face must have betrayed his devastation because Ty frowned and tapped Scott on the shoulder, then the three of them were racing of the café.

“Brooke’s house,” he shouted over the firing of his engine as they emerged from the building. “Something’s fucking wrong.”

Without question or comment, the other three sprinted for their bikes. Curly didn’t bother to wait for them, he shot out of the parking lot like his motorcycle had a rocket engine. The others would only be a moment behind, but it was a moment too long to linger.

Though he broke every speed limit ever enacted, the five-minute trip to Brooke’s felt like hours. As he sped down the highway at a dangerous velocity, every horrifying scenario possible played through his head.

Prick didn’t leave. He was at Brooke’s.

She was hurt and bleeding.

She’d been robbed.

Ray was injured.

The worries got more and more gruesome from there. He tried to calm his mind and body, but concern for Brooke consumed him.

Why the fuck hadn’t he put a man on her house until Prick was securely in Texas? What a fucking fool he’d been. If Prick dared to set foot on her property, the man would die today.

Fuck the consequences.

He screeched to a stop in front of Brooke’s house and practically leaped from the bike. It crashed to the ground, but he didn’t give a fuck. Ty could fix whatever damage he’d just caused. The urge to bust through the front door was nearly impossible to resist, but Curly forced himself to slow down. He had no idea what he’d be walking into and needed to be smart despite the burning need to see Brooke alive and well.

As he reached the front door, he caught the sounds of motorcycle pipes in the distance. Ty, Scott, and Pulse would pull up any second. They’d be pissed he didn’t wait for backup, but he fucking couldn’t.

Quiet as possible, he turned the knob on Brooke’s front door then eased it open. He slipped inside and plastered himself against the wall.

Ray’s frantic but muffled barks had him frowning. Where the hell was the dog? His desperate cries seemed to come from the second floor.

As Curly took a step toward the stairs, he heard Brooke’s stunned whisper. “You? You burned down my kennel? Why?”

A voice he didn’t recognize responded. “I wanted you to feel what I felt. Why should you get to keep your life when mine is gone? Why should I be the only one who suffers? You took what I love, so I took what you love.”

Tags: Lilly Atlas Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Erotic
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