Gentleman Wanted 3

Gemma

Never in a million years had I thought that moving home would be such a logistical nightmare. But then again, what did I know? When we had run, it had been with nothing but what I could throw into a backpack.

Going home, although it was hard to think of it as home now, was a different ball game altogether. Bobby had a lot of things, a crib and clothes, and it was going to take a van. Ruin hadn’t seemed worried. One call was all it had taken, and the Black Aces had come down en-masse. A guard, he had said, our very own little convoy to make sure we were safe on the road.

Personally, I thought it was a little over the top, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. Even if I had wanted to, I didn’t think Gent would let me.

The drive back, complete with removal men and a half dozen bikers, had taken a relatively short amount of time. But I had to admit I was glad when we rolled past Cooks and headed towards the gated compound that was The Black Aces’ headquarters.

It was only then that