I fist my hands at my side and let him pass, praying to fuck I’m not about to get two prospects killed.
When Dice reaches him, he holds the flashlight out to Powers, who takes it and shines it into the bag through the wide slit he made.
It feels like it takes him forever to search it before he looks up at me and shakes his head. “Not sure what the fuck it is, but it’s not a bomb.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “Dice, run to the saloon and tell them it was a false alarm. They’ll be losing their minds.”
“On it,” he answers, taking his keys from Powers before he jogs through the warehouse. I crouch next to Powers. “Alright, let’s take a look.”
“You don’t think this could be a chemical attack, do you?”
“You mean like Anthrax? I think if it is, we’re fucked either way.”
He snorts and unties the top of the bag, holding it wide open for me to look at.
It takes me a second for my brain to understand exactly what it is I’m seeing. Dead dandelions. Bunches and bunches of them. I feel something cold move through me.
“What the fuck?” Powers asks.
“They’re dandelions.”
“I can see that, but what the fuck are they doing here?” They’re not a donation, but a message. Except I have no idea what it’s supposed to mean. My heart beats faster as it processes all the possible outcomes. This is clearly about Legs. Whoever brought these here is telling me they not only know about Legs, they know what I’ve been sending her.
“Tip it out. Make sure there is nothing else inside, then get rid of it.”
I stand up, step inside the hut, and hit the open latch for the gates before walking back over to Powers. My stomach revolts when I see hidden at the bottom of the bag are half a dozen pairs of Legs’s panties. I’ve torn enough off her to recognize them. Those dandelions aren’t a copy of the ones I sent Legs, theyarethe ones I sent her. This asshole has been going through her trash. I flashback to the night I took a pair of her panties from the laundry room, and wonder if that’s how he got his hand on them too. I know just how easy it was to take them. Why didn’t I think about this then?
“I have somewhere I’ve gotta be. I don’t have time to explain yet. Tell Kruger I’ll be back as soon as possible,” I order before running for my truck. I yank my cut off and throw it on the seat next to the vase before heading out.
I push the truck hard, going twenty over the limit, as my head spins in a million different directions, none of which are good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Legs
I siton the bed in Del’s spare room and stare at the bunny in my hands, lost in a fog of doubt and confusion. How did things come to this? I get that I’ve made some stupid choices, but this is beyond anything I could have predicted. Did I cause this? Did I do something that led to this, or was it just dumb luck?
Tapping at my door has me looking up.
“Cops are on their way.” I open my mouth to protest. It’s ingrained in me to be wary of cops, but I shut it again when she shakes her head. “We talked about this. The club will cover their backs. You have to cover yours.”
“You think it’s Midas, don’t you?” My voice sounds hoarse, as if I have to force the words out.
“I don’t know what to think. I’m not a cop, and know I’m beyond biased in this scenario.” I look at her as she sits beside me. “From my point of view, all I see is my pregnant friend going it alone, living in a shitty apartment, working full time in a diner even though this pregnancy is kicking your ass. You know what I don’t see? A single person checking in on you. I’m not talking about a text or a phone call. That shit is easy. I’m talkingabout turning up with a casserole so you don’t have to cook. Or someone to curl up, eat junk, and watch movies with, like you did with me. Where are these people that love you, Legs?”
A tear slips down my cheek from the impact of her words. It’s more complicated than that. There is a bunch of shit going on that Del knows nothing about, and it’s not my place to fill in the blanks. Even if it does give her a skewed view of the MC.
“How did Midas find you and take one look at where you’re living and not throw you over his shoulder?”
“It’s not so bad.”
“It’s not so great either.”
I don’t have anything to say to that.
“Look, I’m not trying to be a bitch here. I’m really not, and I hope I’m wrong about everything. But if I’m not, then you need to do this so you’re safe.”
“Not sure how much contact you’ve had with the police over the years, but they’re not exactly known in these parts for keeping people safe, especially people like me.”
