Page 37 of Biker's Property
It’s just a weird feeling.
A couple Sinclairsown gas stations in this part of the state – most along the highway – but this Love’s isn’t owned by anyone we know. We park our bikes as close to the travel stop exit and straight-shot highway on-ramp as possible before we get off and swap numbing agents. I take a cigarette from Condom and light up before glancing around the parking lot while my comrades take their own survey of the situation.
Darlene parked the Dodge at the pump. Ruger finishes off Condom’s flask, handing it back to him with fire behind his idiotic green eyes. Condom punches him in the chest and snatches back the flask.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls. “That was my supply for the rest of the day.”
“I’m going to kill that whore.”
“She’s your wife, Bucky. Relax,” Condom says, clearly still seething over the indulgence with liquor. “I’m sure she has a reasonable explanation for lying to you and hiding out in Oklahoma with her mama.”
“That bitch,” he sneers, spitting on the ground. The last thing I need is this idiot getting out of hand.
“Bucky, chill,” I reply, feeling goddamn blessed that I’m not gone off some type of liquor myself. “She’s your property. I don’t care what you do with her as long as you do it after we question her.”
“We can question her after I shoot the bitch in the head.”
“So we question a corpse, you dumb fuck?” Condom growls. “You can’t let some woman get under your skin like this. Toughen the fuck up.”
Ruger spits on the ground again, this time dangerously close to Condom, who leans with his arms folded, looking ready to burst if necessary. Lyle Blackwood was just about the only person who could get Ruger’s crazy ass under control. Since he died that country boy has been a goddamn nightmare.
“She’s my property. If I want to tie her to a tree and shove a shotgun up her ass, I can do it.”
“Shove your shotgun wherever you have to after we question her. I have shit to do that doesn’t involve burying a body without getting anything out of it.”
“Fine,” Bucky says. “I’ll go in there first and talk to her calmly.”
“Like fuck you will,” I snap at him. He already has his hand on his holster.
“I’ll gether out of there,” I tell him. “And I won’t leave any witnesses.”
I promisedJuliette I would stay away from this kind of trouble… but all I’ve thought about the entire ride here is how I can keep this woman safe and if I have to fire a couple bullets to protect Juliette and Mackenzie… that’s what I’ll do.
“I’ll watch him,”Condom says, gesturing towards Bucky.
“I don’t need your ass watching me like a fucking kid,” Bucky replies.
We both ignore him.Everyone knows the Blackwoods are hot-tempered. I hope that woman enjoyed her freedom while it lasted because I believe him when he says he’ll kill her. I just don’t want it to happen on my watch.
Chapter Seventeen
JOSLIN
Ryder shows up just before sunrise. I won’t act like I was waiting at the door for him or anything. By then, Brinley Sinclair put me up on an air mattress in the gas station break room. It’s not exactly fancy, but I pass out with a DRIPPING SPRINGS fleece pulled over my shoulders. I wake up to Ryder’s hand on my shoulder. He startles me awake and instantly starts in with a gentle voice.
“It’s just me, church girl.”
I open my mouth to chastise him for calling me church girl again, but a loud and embarrassing yawn escapes instead, making Ryder laugh. I look away from him when he does. The last thing I want is to think about how handsome he is.
This break room already feels too small with him in it now. And he’s so close to me, standing right next to the air mattress with a tall, impressive frame. Muscles all over. One pulse of that weird heartbeat between my legs again and I quickly look away from him.
Ryder is dangerous – and he still smells like whiskey.
I standup to give myself a little more substance and power against Ryder, but I still feel so small.
“Your husband is dead,”he says calmly and without a sliver of doubt in his voice. I feel the twist in my chest and know it’s true. I don’t know what to say and luckily, Ryder continues before I have to think of something to say. “The cops are looking into his connection to a gang of bikers… the Midnight SS.”
He gives me a look that borders on suspicious.