LIMITED TIME: Read this STEAMY Story and Earn FREE Bonus Coins
From Dec 16- 22, read for at least 60 minutes and enter to win up to 120 Coins (5000 Winners)
Maya, an innocent nurse, finds herself forced to accept protection from the Phantoms motorc...
Hey, guys! JTPR has been added to Wattpad Paid's "Mafia and a Love of Crime" reading list! There are a lot more sinfully criminal stories for you to check out, and you can find the reading list on the @PaidStories profile.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
∞
"Why do you call him that? Ripper?" asked Maya.
"Because when Jake was a new recruit, he slashed the face of a rival MC's President. Ripped it to shreds with some kinda shank," Ghost replied, sounding like he was taking a joyful trip down memory lane. "And do you know why?"
"Why?" she breathed.
∞
"Finally legal, huh, Jakey boy?" Wooly chuckled loudly, wiping a beer spill on the bar countertop. "What can I get ya? The usual?"
"You're hilarious," I muttered, glancing over my shoulder at the sound of glass breaking, "but yeah."
He nodded, moving with shaky movements to grab me a cold beer. Wooly was probably pushing a hundred and had been serving me beer at The Wreck since I had one chin hair. I could only get a drink when he was working because the other fuckers were too scared of Reaper to serve me. But Wooly? He was old and faithful, like a well-kept Corvette. Loved the old bag of bones.
"Happy birthday, kid," he said, setting the bottle down in front of me.
"Thanks, Wool." I took a long, grateful gulp. "Reaper around?"
Wooly shook his head, looking regretful. "Weren't expecting you until tomorrow. Think he's still out on club business."
"Yeah. Of course."
It wasn't like I even wanted to spend time with my old man on my birthday, but still, would it have killed the asshole to stick around for his eldest son's twenty-first? Probably. What would he have made me done to mark such a milestone? Probably eat someone.
Ma, on the other hand, had baked me a cake and made me feel like I was a kid again. She'd slipped me a hundred and told me to go out and have fun with my friends. My queen. It wasn't her fault that everyone was busy, or just wasn't answering my calls.
I was two beers in when Janine, Wooly's granddaughter, took over from him. I liked her. She could hold her own when it came to the drunk assholes that frequently hit on her night in and night out. I couldn't blame them. Janine was somewhere in her late twenties and looked like a younger Salma Hayek. A younger, inked-up Salma.
"Hey, birthday boy," she said with a grin. "What the hell are you doing in this dump?"
"You know I can't stay away from you," I told her, taking a sip of my beer.
