Monster: Angels of Chaos MC Read Free

made it a point to busy myself and stop thinking about it. After all, no sense in worrying about something that hadn’t happened yet and probably would never happen.
    I didn’t need any more scary people in my life. I moved to this town to get away from scary people. Or rather, one scary person in particular.

Chapter 3
     
    I’m being led through the snow by a tall man who looks like he could crush me if he decided to. But I don’t have a choice. It’s either this or freeze to death in the backseat of my car.
    We’re actually not far from where I pulled over, I realize. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was only a quarter mile or so. When the storm was at its peak, I couldn’t see a damn thing out the windows. I could have been driving down the middle of Main Street and never would have known, unable to see more than a foot in front of me. Now, I see the house more clearly as we approach. It sits by itself, green siding stark against the gray sky, smoke curling up from the chimney. I turn to check that my car is safe where it’s sitting. I can easily see it from here, even with the flakes that are still falling fast and heavy. I guess that’s how he spotted me.
    A hound dog runs alongside us, bounding through the snow. I can’t help but laugh at its absolute joy. To think I’d probably come close to dying in the same snow this dog finds so thrilling. I wonder if he lives alone, this man, or if he has a family. The idea of freezing isn’t appealing but neither is being raped and murdered in some farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere.
    I’m nearing exhaustion, slowing down even though he’s doing a good job of clearing a path for me through the deep snow. The hound trails behind him, nudging me. Sweet dog. This gets the man’s attention. He doubles back for me, taking my arm and pulling me along with him. I have no choice but to be dragged. I’m glad for it, though. I might have given up if left to my own devices. When’s the last time I ate? I don’t even remember now.
    “Come on,” I hear him shout, urging me to keep up. “It’s getting heavy again. Just a little more.” We finally reach the back porch and stumble up the steps, pushed from behind by the wind that has indeed strengthened once again. We make it just in the nick of time. He opens the door and ushers me inside along with the dog, then pushes it shut against the howling wind.
    I’m standing in a little farmhouse kitchen, complete with a fireplace along one wall. There’s a flight of stairs dividing the room in half, with the stove and other appliances on the opposite side of the hearth. The flames are blazing, which is a welcome sight to my half-frozen eyes. The whole room is quaint, cozy, and not at all what I would have expected.
    “Motherfucker,” he breathes, panting for air. “I can’t believe how hard it’s blowing out there.”
    “Tell me about it,” I say weakly, hardly able to speak. He must see me swaying on my feet because he rushes to me, sitting me in a chair by the fire.
    “Let me take your gloves,” he says in his deep voice. “They’re all wet and cold. Same with your boots, they’re probably soaked through now.” He is right. These aren’t snow boots. I am totally unprepared for this. His rough hands rip the boots from my feet, along with the wet socks.
    “Do you feel this?” He pinches the sole of my foot, and I nod. “Good. They’re red, not white. White would be a problem. Keep them by the fire.” I do as I’m told, while stretching forward to warm my hands as well. If he wanted to rape me, I reason with myself, he wouldn’t be so concerned with whether I lose my toes or fingers.
    Minutes later he comes back, holding out a steaming mug. “Drink this,” he says, thrusting it toward me.
    “What is it?”
    “Tea with whiskey. It’ll get your blood flowing again.” I take it, feeling tentative. Is he drugging me? I take a sniff and reel backward, the smell of the whiskey hitting me hard.
    “I