“Look, I’m sorry.”

“You know, you could help me along.” He started to unbuckle his pants, and she knew what was coming and hated it. What was more, she didn’t tell him no, even though it made her really uncomfortable to do what he wanted.

She liked his kisses, even if they weren’t the best, a little wet and sloppy, his hands always getting on the grabby side, which made any kiss a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what could this be?” He pulled out his cell phone.

She took note it was the latest make and model. She hated phones, but her dad required her to have one in case she was ever in any trouble. He’d also advised her he’d put a GPS in her phone so he knew where she was at all times. It was a little detail she hadn’t told Bishop about. He liked to think when he stole her away, they were completely alone. “What?”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

She tried not to wince when she heard Preacher on the other end of the call. It wasn’t good if he was already pissed as it was. Bishop didn’t even have it on speakerphone and she heard him clearly.

“Dad—”

“Yeah, your dad. You remember, the guy who has to deal with all your fucking shit while you prance around wearing my badge like it’s a fucking get out of jail free card. Is Robin with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’ve got Bear here, and he wants to fucking beat the living crap out of you. Get back here, now.”

“Here being?”

“Do you want me to shove my boot up your ass?”

The line went dead, and she waited for Bishop to explode. Every other time he would completely blow up over his father instructing him on what he was to do and not to do.

Pressing her lips together, she waited.

Nothing happened.

Being the kids of two MC members since birth, they both knew the life, and the club always took priority no matter the day.

Bishop shook his head. “Fuck!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking okay. It wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day.”

He got to his feet and grabbed her arm. She let out a little whimper as pain shot right through her body, but Bishop didn’t seem to notice.

Whenever he got like this, there really was no talking any sense into him. He would do whatever the hell he wanted to do without care for anyone else.

They made it to his car, which was an old, beaten-up red truck. Climbing into the passenger side, she only just shut the door as he slammed on the gas, taking them back toward where he lived for the most part.

Preacher had a house in Knight’s Bridge main town, but his clubhouse was out on a dirty road. It was an old garage with a huge dump at the back. No one dared enter as it had an eight-foot-tall metal fence, barbed wire, vicious dogs, and of course, some of the meanest bikers anyone could ever meet. They were not the friendly kind to do good deeds.