Dickhead (Wrong Side of the Tracks #3) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Biker, Dark, M-M Romance, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
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Un-sexy thoughts. Fast.

The laundry spinning in the washing machine. Getting cuffed to the spanking bench—No. That one was too hot for his purposes, because even though it had hurt and been humiliating, most of his memories of it were tied to baring his ass to Hammer who wielded the paddle with such vicious force. Which was sexy. Dex didn’t make the rules.

A little pretzel hit the side of his head and made him look at Cora, who wiped her lips. “You sure you two wouldn’t rather delay the movie a bit and get some time to yours—”

A choked cry came from the main door, followed by a loud, hollow thump. The room froze, but there were male voices shouting outside, and the dull noises of a fight came from where Hammer had just gone to pick up the pizza.

Baby was so alarmed she jumped to the floor, but Cora grabbed her pet by the sparkly collar.

“Hammer?” Dex yelled, but then a gunshot shattered one of the windows and Cora screamed out, pulling the puma away.

Dex froze for half a second, but then yanked on the cuff when he saw the outline of a face in the window. “Hammer!” he yelled in panic when the metal wouldn’t budge. How the fuck was he to protect himself, or anyone else for that matter, while naked and unarmed?

“Run!” Hammer roared, bursting into the living area with a man’s head trapped under his arm. The bastard was red-faced but managed to avoid having his neck twisted so far, and kept slamming his elbow into Hammer’s side as they rolled onto the wall.

Dex’s insides filled with ice when glass broke, and a large stone fell inside, making a hole in the other window. Cora ran farther into the house, dragging a panicked Baby over the floor, and forgetting all about Dex’s predicament.

Two men in balaclavas jumped into the room like shadows from hell, while another was still shoving the glass out of the other window to make room for himself.

“My gun! Hammer! Where’s my gun?” Dex yelled, because not only was he afraid for his own life, but also couldn’t help Hammer while cuffed to the fucking sofa. What was he supposed to do? Throw popcorn at the home invaders? Even that was out of his reach.

He had a terrible flashback to Ryker’s house, when Hammer refused to give him a weapon, because he didn’t feel Dex could be trusted. Now, Dex was sinking into the leather sofa with a sense that Hammer’s feelings on the matter had not changed in the slightest.

As Hammer wrestled a bald guy with tattoos on his head, another approached him from the back with a knife in hand. Helpless like a puppy with its paw stuck in a trap, Dex threw the pillow at the guy.

“Behind you!”

Hammer reached back, grabbed the hand holding the weapon, and made a rapid twist with his body, which sent the blade into the other goon’s neck.

Blood drizzled to the floor, but two more armed men had crawled in. Dex made a helpless plea as his skin itched with the sense of upcoming pain.

“Hammer, I’m stuck!”

Gray eyes met his, and as the first man dropped to the floor Hammer shoved his shoulder into the other goon’s chest, trapping him against the wall. The wall hook with Hammer’s holster was just out of reach, so Hammer dashed for it. The goon attempted to follow his motion, hitting Hammer’s shoulder, but Dex’s hero spun away with the harness in hand. Stumbling a few steps, he could have pulled out the gun, but instead, he tossed the holster Dex’s way, as if they were playing a high-stakes game of Frisbee.

Time slowed down. Even shouts came to Dex dulled, as if he’d risen beyond reality and was no longer bound by the laws of physics. His body stretched, and as he reached toward the spinning boomerang of steel and leather, he grabbed it by the grip of Hammer’s gun and flicked open the strap, holding it in place with a single move of his thumb. The holster dropped in time for Dex to face a giant with a baseball bat. Brown eyes widened in the slit of the balaclava, and the man roared, about to smash Dex’s head with the bat, but then Dex pulled the trigger, and a bullet from the pistol tore through the bastard’s forehead. He dropped dead on top of Dex.

The body was heavy as it convulsed, leaking warm blood on Dex’s neck, but a switch in his brain had been turned on, and the discomfort could not take away the newfound focus. He used the dead man’s shoulder to steady his arm and aimed at a stranger, who picked up a chair and spun it in the air, about to hit Hammer with it.


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