Текст книги "Devil's Game"

Автор книги: Joanna Wylde

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

But my teeth? Those I trusted.

I pushed off from the stairwell wall with my feet, sliding across the wooden floor toward Skid like a missile, hoping to hell he wouldn’t actually shoot. My hands caught his ankle, shoving up his pant leg so I could lock my jaws around his flesh.

“Fuck!” he yelled as my teeth sank in. “You fucking cunt!”

I ignored him, biting down harder. He started kicking at me, and I held on tight, sliding back and forth across the floor as he thrashed his leg. I heard the gun cock but I ignored it. I might be fucked, but Sophie wasn’t. Utter determination took over and my brain held one thought, and one thought only.

Keep biting Skid’s leg.

That’s why I didn’t even notice when he pointed his weapon. The loud crack of a gunshot broke through my fog, but I didn’t feel any pain.

Huh. Must’ve missed me.

Blood filled my mouth as I dug deeper, wondering if I could sever his tendon if I tried hard enough. Probably not, I’d need to rip at him to make that happen …

That’s when he shot again, and this time I definitely felt pain.

Holy shit.

I’d never experienced anything like the trail of fire that ran across my thigh. Agony. At first I couldn’t get my jaw to unlock. Then he kicked again and I went flying, slamming into the wall with a scream. I lay there, stunned, watching blood seeping out of my leg.

Wait.

BLOOD WAS LEAKING OUT OF MY LEG.

I slapped my hands down, pressing hard against the wound in my upper thigh. That felt just as fabulous as you might imagine. Shit. Holy shit. Sweet baby Jesus!

“You shot me,” I whispered, stunned. Why this was such a surprise, I don’t know. Skid glared down and shook his head.

“What did you expect, you stupid fucking bitch? You fucking bit me. Christ, do you know how dirty a human mouth is? I’ll probably get sepsis.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking sorry that your ankle hurts,” I growled, my vision blurring. “I’d kiss it all better if I wasn’t busy trying to keep the blood inside my body!”

He raised the gun and pointed it right at me.

“What the fuck Hunter sees in you I cannot imagine,” he told me. “But listen up. You got one pass. You fuck with me again, I’ll shoot you in the head and tell him you made me do it. I’ll sleep like a baby afterward, too. Got me?”

I nodded, remembering a little too late that I shouldn’t be pissing off the guy with a gun.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

Chapter Seven

Skid and I looked at each other.

“Keep your fucking mouth closed,” he hissed. That sent a surge of hope through me. He wasn’t expecting anyone … Rescuers? If it was Reapers, great. But what if it was some random person, or a kid? My thoughts started spinning … Skid could kill them.

I couldn’t just lie here like a lump, bleeding. I had to do something.

“Who’s out there?” he yelled.

Nothing.

The doorbell rang again.

“Fuck off!” he yelled, turning toward the door. I lunged at his knees from behind, hoping to knock him down. Miraculously, he crashed to the floor, dropping the gun. We wrestled over it briefly as the doorbell started ringing again, over and over. I was nowhere near as strong as Skid, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he shoved me away and got to his feet. My head hit the wall, sending sickening waves of pain down along my spine.

“You are fucking dead if you make a noise, cunt. I’m through with you,” Skid hissed.

He stomped to the door, beyond furious. Then he threw it open and Sophie smashed a wooden chair over his head.

Wow, didn’t see that coming.

I jumped up as his gun fired, adrenaline killing the pain in my leg and skull. The chair crashed into him again. Skid roared and lunged forward. I knew this was it—either we’d win or we’d die. I attacked him from behind, throwing myself on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and jerking him backward with my full weight. He staggered as I bit his ear, worrying at it like a dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie grab another chair and go for his legs.

This definitely wasn’t the plan.

No time to worry about that now. Skid screamed as he staggered forward, falling off the porch face-first into the dirt. I rode him down and then Sophie was there, kicking him over and over. He managed to roll to the side, which was a huge mistake, because it gave her a clear shot at his crotch.

She attacked his balls viciously, and his screeching cries of pain filled the air. That didn’t slow her down in the least. Over and over she kicked him, her face twisted with hate. He stopped struggling, and I realized he’d passed out.

I don’t know if it was from pain or if I’d managed to cut off his air. Sophie grabbed the gun, handing it off to me. I pointed it at Skid’s bloodied body, panting.

“Go upstairs and grab the cuffs,” I managed to say. “We’ll get him tied up and then call for help.”

Sophie took off, and I held the gun on him the whole time she was gone, hoping like hell he wouldn’t wake up. I was prepared to shoot—but that didn’t mean I wanted to …

It wasn’t because I was scared to kill another human being. Of course, the thought sickened me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my talk with Liam, and everything he’d said about the truce and the cartel. Maybe he’d been lying to me—I certainly wouldn’t put it past him … But what if he’d been telling the truth? If he was, killing Skid would ruin the peace and sooner or later the cartel would come after the Reapers.

We needed him alive.

Sophie returned with the cuffs. Strangely, she also had a bedsheet and a knife from the kitchen. Together we wrestled Skid’s limp body over to the porch pillar and fastened his hands around it.

I felt the tension in my chest loosen, and I looked up at Sophie and grinned.

“You don’t listen very well when you’re told to run, do you?”

She smirked.

“I guess not,” she said. “I heard the shot and knew you were in trouble. I just couldn’t leave you—it didn’t feel right.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think you might’ve saved my life. Not sure if he would’ve killed me or not.”

She held up the sheet.

“You want me to bandage that leg up for you?” she asked. I looked down at my leg. Sure enough, blood still oozed out, although not much of it at this point. Damned if I hadn’t forgotten about it during the fight. God bless adrenaline.

Everything immediately started hurting again.

“Yeah, might be a good idea,” I said. “Obviously it’s not life threatening, but wow … I can’t believe I got shot.”

She glanced at me and cocked her head.

“Can I ask a crazy question?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I think we’re past being formal with each other at this point.”

“How often does this happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“How often do people get kidnapped, or shot, or whatever? In the club, I mean.”

My eyes widened.

“Um, never?” I said. “I mean, I’m sure men have gotten shot. But not anyone in our chapter, at least not that I know of. Not related to the club, at least. One of the brothers, Bagger, died in Afghanistan last year. But seriously, this is not normal shit.”

She sighed and used the knife to cut the edge of the sheet. Then she tore it into a long strip and started wrapping my leg.

“Glad to hear that,” she murmured, frowning. “But even this is too much. I can’t take this. Noah can’t have this in his life.”

“Well, now isn’t the time to try and figure all that out,” I said, trying to calm her down. I could see a hint of crazy in her eyes, a delayed reaction now that we were safe. I didn’t want her melting down on me, at least not until we got out of here.

“I need to find his phone,” I said to distract her. “Got to call Dad, get him out here. For all we know, there’s fifty Devil’s Jacks on their way.”

Sophie shuddered, and then tears filled her eyes. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. I reached out to touch her, but she shrugged me off.

“Sorry,” she said. “You better tie the bandage. I don’t want to touch it after touching my nose.”

I laughed.

“Thanks. That’d be just my luck—I’d survive kidnapping and Skid, only to be taken out by nose cooties.”

She smiled at me, and then she started giggling. It had a bit of a hysterical note to it, but I figured she’d earned it.

I found Skid’s phone on the coffee table. Thankfully it was his personal phone, not one of the burners I’m sure they kept around for talking business. I turned it on and there was another stroke of luck—Skid didn’t have it password protected.

That was stupid of him.

I scrolled through it, looking at his messages. Nothing of interest. Looked like he’d been sexting with some girl named Kelsey the night before. Not club related, though. His email was protected. Oh, and there … perfect. Google Maps. I clicked on it and found us. The house was along the Spokane Valley, back in the hills. Maybe half an hour from Coeur d’Alene. Funny, it seemed like we should be farther away—this place felt like a whole different world. Of course, if they’d been using it as a base to spy on the Reapers, it couldn’t be too far.

I opened the phone app and started dialing my dad’s number.

Then I stopped.

It was just after two p.m., so Hunter was probably still meeting with the club. If I called right now, told them I was safe, would they kill him? My stomach clenched. Whatever else I felt about Hunter, I didn’t want him dead. How to protect him? I could wait to call … But I had no idea how long the meet would go, and if I waited too long, more Jacks might show up.

What if I warned him?

The thought was so startling that I had to sit down on the couch. If I warned him, he could get away. But would warning him count as betraying the club?

Yes.

Yes, it would. That would absolutely be a betrayal and I should be ashamed of myself for even considering it. But then I thought about his soft, brown hair matted with blood. His body buried in an unmarked grave up in the mountains …

I’d warn him for the same reason I was keeping Skid alive, I decided. That wasn’t a true betrayal, was it? Dad could always hunt him down later, but for now I should help preserve the peace.

It was enough of an excuse for me to do it. I dialed him quickly, before I changed my mind. There was a scraping noise from the porch, and I looked through the window to see Sophie dragging over a chair to sit on. Would she ever forgive the Reapers for getting her into this? Poor Ruger. He was already in a weird spot with her, and this wouldn’t help.

“Skid?” Hunter asked, his voice tense. “I’m in the meet. Just got word, they found Toke. Clutch is alive but he’s in rough shape.”

“This isn’t Skid,” I said quietly, heart pounding. “If you want to live, you need to keep your face blank and listen to what I say.”

Brief silence.

“I hear you.”

“Sophie and I are in charge at the house now. Skid is alive, but he won’t stay that way if anyone tries to get us before Dad picks up. If you have any friends you’re planning to call, don’t. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“As soon as I hang up with you, I’m going to take ten minutes to go to the bathroom and clean up some scrapes I have,” I continued. “Then I’m calling my dad and telling him everything. If you want to survive, you better be gone before then.”

More silence. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Crap. “To keep the peace. Just get out, okay?”

“Okay.”

I hung up the phone and walked over to the door, pushing it open.

“I’m going to go clean up in the bathroom for a few. You okay out here?”

She nodded.

“Leave the door open so you can hear me screaming if I need to.”

“You got it.”

I found a bathroom between the living room and the dining room. When I looked in the mirror, I had to laugh. I looked like a lunatic woman. My hair was all over, I had raccoon eyes, and a bruise was starting to rise on my cheek.

Oh, and Skid’s blood had run down my chin and dried there.

I thought it added a touch of class.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” I whispered, giggling. I washed up all my scrapes and found some toothpaste in a drawer. I used my finger to rub it all through my mouth, which still tasted like evil biker ankle. Ten minutes later I pulled on my ridiculous shoes and hobbled out of the house toward Sophie, holding up the phone.

“Dumbass has Google Maps installed,” I told her. “I know exactly where we are. I’m calling them to come and get us.”

“That’s good news,” she replied. “He hasn’t moved at all. Do you think he has internal injuries?”

I shrugged, because I really didn’t care. He was alive. That was good enough.

“If he does, there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ll let the guys take care of him.”

I dialed Dad’s number and he answered.

“Picnic.”

“Hey, Dad? It’s me,” I said, trying to hold it together. I realized my hand was shaking. Shock, maybe? My leg felt numb.

“Oh, Emmy,” he said, his voice full of relief. “Christ, I can’t believe it’s you. Are you all right? Fuck, that prick Hunter just left. Lucky bastard.”

Yeah, wasn’t gonna touch that comment.

“We’re okay,” I said. “Could use a ride, though.”

Dad laughed, incredulous.

“You’ve been kidnapped and that’s what you have to say for yourself? Did you escape? Where are you?”

“I’ll send you the map,” I told him. “There’s just one guy here, Skid. He’s a Devil’s Jack. We managed to beat him up and now he’s handcuffed to the porch.”

“Holy shit. Proud of you, girl. Any witnesses I should know about?”

“No, it’s all good,” I told him. “But you might want to bring the van. We may need some cargo space.”

I gave him the directions and hung up. I looked up to find Sophie watching me. She looked a little shocky, I decided, and the gun trembled in her hand. I’d take over guarding Skid in a minute, but I had one more thing to do first.

“They’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” I told her. “They sounded pretty happy to hear from us.”

“Was Hunter with them?” she asked.

I swallowed.

“No. The meet was already over. I guess we missed him by maybe five minutes. He’s got good luck.”

Sophie raised a brow and I met her gaze head-on, challenging her to question my story. She didn’t. I stepped off the porch and dropped the phone on the ground, stomping on it with my spiky heel. The glass shattered and crunched.

“What the hell?” Sophie demanded. “Why’d you do that?”

“GPS,” I said, which wasn’t true. I just didn’t want my dad to see that I’d called Hunter. “I don’t want the Devil’s Jacks tracing us with it, and we can’t leave it here.”

“What if we need it again?”

“We won’t. Dad and Ruger will find us. Don’t worry. By this time tomorrow it’ll be like this never happened. In fact, I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. Got me?” I added pointedly.

“Got you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. I waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t. My opinion of her went up another notch. Whatever else she might not get about MC life, Sophie seemed to understand sisterhood.

Sometimes sisters need to shut their mouths and drop it.

This was definitely one of those times.

By the time Dad and the other brothers arrived, I was exhausted.

The adrenaline had faded and my entire body was sore and stiff. The little wrestling match with Skid hadn’t helped. Now I stood on the porch watching my father roll Skid’s body over with his foot. I was trying to play it cool, but all I really wanted was to crawl into his arms and sleep for a year. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore …

“He’s been bleeding, but not too bad,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Don’t know if he’s passed out from a head injury or from shock. Sophie kicked his nuts to hell and back.”

Dad grunted, then stepped up onto the porch, holding out his hand for the gun I still gripped. I gave it to him and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

Suddenly I felt safe again.

I looked down at the brothers filling the yard. Ruger. Horse. Duck … Painter. I’d never seen them looking so serious. Bam Bam, a big man who was married to my friend Dancer, studied Skid thoughtfully. My former crush stood next to him, eyes haunted. He looked different somehow. Older. It was attractive, I realized in a distant way. Huh.

“How we gonna play this?” Bam asked. I knew what he was really saying, of course. He wanted to know if they were going to get Skid medical help or put him in the ground. I braced myself and took a deep breath, knowing my work wasn’t done quite yet.

“Not in front of the girls,” Dad muttered, and I knew the answer. So far as Dad was concerned, Skid was already dead. “Ruger, you and Painter take them, get them safe. Call the medic. He can meet you at the clubhouse. We’ll clean up here.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t kill him. You do that, there’s going to be even more fighting.”

“This is about the club, Em,” my dad said quietly. Translation—Go home and be a good girl. Let the men do the thinking for you.

Suddenly I was sick of it.

I’d gotten kidnapped because of their bullshit, and I wasn’t even supposed to know why I’d nearly died. I’d gotten myself out of it, no thanks to them, and now I was expected to just nod and smile.

Fuck that.

I popped up on my toes and whispered in Dad’s ear.

“Hunter told me about the truce and the cartel. If you kill this guy, we’re all going to suffer. I know you’re pissed, Dad, but we have to think of the club. Please. Think of me and Kit—I don’t want to live in fear.”

He stiffened.

I pulled away, looking up at him, begging with my eyes. Don’t let your ego make this decision.

He shook his head, jaw rigid. Fuck. I crossed my arms and stepped back, my plea turning to a glare. How fucking typical—the king’s pride got hurt, so now we all have to go to war? If anyone gets to make the decision, it should be me and Sophie.

Dad held my eyes for long seconds, then sighed.

“Okay, we’ll take him with us and dump him somewhere he’ll be found,” he said. “See if you can find something to bandage him up with, Bam.”

Relief crashed through me. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight.

“You’re doing the right thing, Daddy,” I whispered.

“This was club business, baby girl. You shouldn’t be worrying about things so much. That’s my job.”

His words cut through me and I stiffened. I wasn’t a fucking baby to be handed a sucker and told to go play.

Wait, where had that come from?

Dad wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t said a thousand times before, but for some reason this time it really pissed me off. This is what it feels like to be Kit, I realized, suddenly understanding her need to rebel. Oh, I didn’t like this feeling. I didn’t like it one bit.

I glanced toward the brothers. Nobody was paying attention to us. Perfect.

“Daddy, I love you, but this stopped being club business when I got kidnapped and cuffed to a bed,” I said quietly, making sure my voice didn’t carry. “That made it my business. I’m still trying to figure out what happened and what it all means, but I have a right to worry about things that might destroy my life.”

He frowned at me.

“Let’s talk about it later, baby.”

Right. I knew that tone. “Later” meant “never.”

I sighed, because I’d gotten as far as I would for now. That was okay—this wasn’t the kind of conversation you have in front of an audience, anyway. I was determined, though. I wasn’t going to just slide back into life as usual.

Everything had changed.

I’d been raised to let the men in my life tell me what to do, and look what that’d gotten me. It’d been so easy to follow Hunter away from my friends and into that alley. I’d been so fucking naive. Blind.

Never again.

From now on, I’d be making my own decisions and Dad would just have to deal with it.

Chapter Eight

ONE WEEK LATER

I was right.

“We’ll talk later” meant “We won’t talk about it.”

To be fair, Dad wasn’t around much in the days following my rescue. He didn’t say where he was going, but I assumed he was off dealing with Toke and the Devil’s Jacks. I just hoped he hadn’t “dealt” with them permanently. Of course, I was expected to stay home and forget all about it.

That shit used to be okay. Not anymore.

Not that I would confront Dad directly or try to push my way into a club meeting to find out the real situation—nope, that wouldn’t accomplish anything, anyway. But it did confirm what I’d started to realize the day Sophie and I took down Skid. It was time for one Emmy Lou Hayes to get the hell out of Coeur d’Alene.

I needed to grow up and get a life.

Finding a place to go was the first challenge. I knew I could stay with Kit, but she only had a studio at school in Olympia. I didn’t think it was fair to put that kind of pressure on her. Nope, I wanted to find my own path. At least I had money saved … One advantage to living with my father was I didn’t really have many expenses. I’d already applied to that aesthetician’s program in Portland. It was a great school, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk being in the same city as Hunter. On the other hand, it was a city—not a village. Wasn’t like I’d see him around all the time. Hell, I’d probably never run into him at all.

I even knew where he lived, so I could be sure to avoid him.

(Okay, so I’d done a little online stalking of my own by now. I still had his wallet, which I suppose I should’ve felt guilty over. Instead I used his credit card to order some really cute lingerie. I didn’t spend enough to bankrupt him, but it was enough to make him suffer a little. Oh, and I sprang for gift wrapping and overnight delivery, because why not? Just because I’d saved his life didn’t mean I’d forgiven him for what he’d done.)

Unfortunately, ordering presents for myself online was the closest I could get to real shopping, because Dad put me on lockdown. And if that weren’t bad enough, Painter had appointed himself as my own personal guardian angel while Dad was gone. I couldn’t believe I used to crush on that guy—now all I saw when he walked into a room was a vision of him screwing some skank on a bathroom counter. Liam had been right. I definitely deserved better. Despite my hostility, Painter insisted on driving me to work every morning and meeting me for lunch. Then he’d drive me home and hang out at the house, spending the night on the couch or in Kit’s old bedroom.

To call this awkward was one hell of an understatement.

Thus I took to spending a lot of time in my room. That’s where I was on Friday night, exactly one week from the day I’d met Hunter for the first time. I had my TV on and I was playing around online when a private message popped up.

LIAM: Hey Em

I blinked. I’d blocked his ass. How the hell did he get through?

LIAM: Are you there?

I considered the little flashing message alert. Should I answer? What would I say? Direct confrontation, I decided. Call him on his shit, because seeing his message didn’t send a little thrill through me at all. No thrills allowed.

ME: How did you contact me? I blocked you.

LIAM: Probably best not to give up all my secrets. How are you?

ME: I’m great. Nobody took naked pictures of me without my consent today.

LIAM: Guess I had that coming. You wearing any of those panties you bought with my card?

I giggled, then managed to cut it off. Didn’t need Painter bursting in to check on me. And why was I laughing, anyway? Still … I wish I’d seen Hunter’s face when he realized I was spending his money.

ME: Yes. I’m wearing a midnight blue pushup bra and matching thong, because I’m getting ready to go out on a date. I like my new man a lot because he doesn’t kidnap people.

LIAM: A date? Pretty sure you’re stuck at home tonight with Painter. Please tell me you aren’t dating him? Hate me all you want, but you really can do better.

My breath caught. How did he know Painter was here?

ME: Are you stalking me again?

LIAM: Just tonight. I need to talk to you. Promise—last time—then I’ll leave you alone. You saved my life. Let me share what I know so you can stop worrying. I know your dad hasn’t filled you in, but you deserve answers.

I stared at the screen. How fucking stupid did he think I was? I should turn off the computer. But I was also curious … After all, I’d betrayed my club for this asshole. Now I wanted to hear what he had to say.

ME: So talk.

LIAM: Not online. Can you come outside?

I froze again. Shit. He couldn’t be serious, could he? I glanced at my window, relieved to see that the shade was tightly closed. Someone outside might be able to see that my light was on, but they wouldn’t be able to see inside.

ME: Why would I be stupid enough to do that?

LIAM: Because you’re curious. Bring a gun if it makes you feel better. But come outside and talk to me—I promise it’s safe. Don’t let Painter follow you, though. Last thing we need is another standoff.

Like hell I’d talk to him. I closed my computer and set it on the bed, grabbing the TV remote. Of course I wasn’t going outside. That would be incredibly stupid. I reached down and rubbed my leg lightly over the still-healing gash. Despite all the blood, Skid’s bullet hadn’t really caused any real damage—just a flesh wound. But even flesh wounds hurt like a bitch. I wondered if Hunter had ever been shot, and had the sudden urge to march out there and demonstrate to him just how painful a graze from a bullet could be.

I had excellent aim.

I flipped through the channels, trying to find a distraction. There was nothing on, of course. Just some creepy reality show about a woman who thought she was a squirrel. Life with Cara, or some such shit. My phone buzzed. Another message from Hunter …

LIAM: Come outside and see me. It’s safe. Remember—I only took you to save a brother’s life. I may have scared you, but I wouldn’t have actually hurt you. I know I destroyed what we were starting and I understand I can never fix it. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.

I dropped the phone and flopped back on my bed. The clock next to me said it was one in the morning. I should just turn off the light and go to sleep. That was what the old me would’ve done. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. We had been starting something—something good. Because despite everything between our clubs, I’d spent hours talking on the phone to this man, sharing jokes and telling stories. We’d laughed together and that hadn’t been fake.

Remembering all that pissed me off, too. He’d killed us, whatever the hell “us” had been growing into. He should pay for what he did. I got up and pulled on a pair of ratty sweatpants. A hoodie and my favorite pink Converse completed the outfit.

Yeah, I know. Sexy.

I had a flash of déjà vu as I tiptoed down the stairs past Painter, who was sleeping on the couch, TV still flickering in the darkness. I stopped off in the dining room, grabbing a tiny pistol from behind a plate in the china cabinet. It was full of stuff my mother had collected—stuff we never used but wouldn’t consider throwing away in a million years.

I gave it a quick check, making sure it was loaded (it was) and ready for action (damned straight). Then I tucked it in the pocket of my hoodie right next to my cell, and slipped out the back door. The moon was full, and as I walked away from the house, the night’s beauty startled me. There were crickets singing all around, and while the stars were faint in the bright moonlight, they were everywhere.

Keeping my eyes sharp, I looked around carefully. No sign of anyone, but I knew just how sneaky Hunter and Skid could be. My hand tightened on the gun. Now what?

My phone buzzed again.

LIAM: I’m out behind the bunkhouse

I glanced up, spotting the small building nestled back in the trees. Once upon a time it housed workers on the ranch that used to surround us. The land had been divided up and sold off years ago, but the old outbuildings still stood. Kit and I used it as a playhouse, and now it was full of random junk my dad had collected over the years. I fingered the gun again, the slight pain in my leg a constant reminder that this asshole had gotten me shot. Time for payback?

I couldn’t quite decide.

HUNTER

I heard Em before I saw her. She stumbled over something in the darkness and started cussing. Cute. Then she peeked around the corner of the building, her face shadowed and unreadable.

“Back here,” I called softly. I sat leaning against the wall, holding my hands up so she could see for herself I wasn’t up to anything.

For once in my life, I wasn’t.

Go figure.

I just wanted to see how she was and make sure she knew about the truce. No, that was a flat-out lie. I just wanted to see her. Period. For all I knew she was about to shoot me, and I couldn’t really blame her if she did. Didn’t change how bad I needed to be near her, even if it was just so she could hate me in person.

Not only that, I didn’t trust Hayes to fill her in on the changing situation. She shouldn’t have to live in fear for the next year, wondering if the Jacks were out for revenge. Not that Skid was her number one fan … But he wanted the truce as much as the rest of us, not to mention she’d kept her club from killing him. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness at the time, but he remembered that part.

Unfortunately, the Jacks’s leadership was still up in the air. Our current president, Mason, had rallied. Now the doctors said he had a few more months. I thought we should just get the elections over with while we had the votes, but Burke was holding off. He felt like he couldn’t really count on the full support of the club while Toke was still alive.

He was probably right about that.

The good news about the situation was that Clutch was expected to make a full recovery—eventually—despite the fact that Toke had taken a baseball bat to his leg. In the end, it hadn’t been either MC that found him. Some Good Samaritan heard him moaning through a hotel room wall and called the cops. They’d come bursting in to save Clutch and they’d caught Toke when he came back to the room with food.

“Liam?” Em called, her voice cool in the darkness. Christ, I loved the way she said my name. Nobody else called me Liam, it felt like something special, just from her. Went straight to my cock, which wasn’t so good because tonight wasn’t about getting her naked. Chances were, that’d never happen again.

“Over here,” I called softly. She walked toward me, pulling out a small gun and pointing it at me. Of course she’d taken me up on my suggestion. The fucking thing looked like a toy.

I’d bet my bike it wasn’t.