“I’m not going anywhere, darlin’.”
Chapter 10
Christina
Later in the day, I’m helping stock the bar. The clubhouse phone starts ringing while I’m walking up with a twenty-four pack of beer in my arms.
I immediately think it’s some supplier or a wrong number. Then I hear Brandi, one of the club girls, call out from the kitchen, “Hey, Christina? You’ve got a phone call.”
My whole body goes still. It takes me a minute to force my feet to move. I step into the hall. “Are you sure it’s for me?”
“Yeah!” she calls back. “They asked for you by name and said it was important.”
I’ve never told anyone that I’m here. I glance at the club officers’ door, where Slate’s office is located. It’s closed, and I can hear the low rumble of their voices talking inside. I can’t bring this to him yet.
When I step into the kitchen, she holds the receiver out to me and gives it a little shake. When I reach for it, Brandi lowers her voice. “He sounds weird. Like he’s trying to sound polite but is kinda pissed. You know what I mean?”
I nod. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks for the warning.” My hand trembles as I take the cordless receiver from her. “Hello?”
There’s a slight pause. Then a man’s voice responds, “Hello, Christina.”
It’s just like Brandi said—he sounds pissed, but his tone is syrupy sweet.
“Who is this?” I ask, trying to sound brave.
“You know who I am,” he responds firmly. “I’ve been patient. You’ve made things difficult, as usual.”
Panic surges through my veins, but I try to force some normality back into my voice. “You have the wrong number.”
“No, Christina, I don’t have the wrong number. And don’t lie to me. I hate liars. I want you to come outside now. Alone. Or I’ll blow this place apart—fifty bikes, fifteen women, and one child who doesn’t deserve to pay for your mistakes.”
I get lightheaded for a second, and it feels like all the oxygen has suddenly left the room.
“You’re lying,” I whisper. “How can you know details like that?”
“You seem to think you’re the only one capable of spying and gathering information on your enemy. We’re two peas in a pod, you and me. Now, get your ass out here before I blow the whole damn place with you in it. I get paid either way.”
A chill creeps up my spine as the line goes dead.
I stand there with the receiver still in my hand, listening to the dial tone. Around me, the girls keep working in the kitchen. They’re laughing and joking around with one another, totally oblivious to the danger they’re in.
My knees nearly give out when I hang up. My hands are cold, and I cling to the kitchen counter in order to keep from hitting the floor. I realize at some point that I’m hyperventilating.
Queenie rushes over, wiping her hands on a towel. “Are you all right, honey? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
I open my mouth to answer, but the words won’t come. Standing there feeling helpless is making this whole situation worse.
She frowns. “Christina? What just happened?”
“I need Slate,” I manage to croak out. A sick feeling swirls in my stomach, making me nauseous enough to throw up, but I shove it down.
She must hear something in my tone because she doesn’t argue. She turns fast, calling towards his office. “Slate! You better come out here right now!”
The sound of multiple sets of boots moving on the floor makes some of the panic subside. Slate’s here, and he’s coming to me. When I see his face, I rush to him. He’s as calm as ever, scanning my face worriedly.
He reaches out and steadies me with one hand on each shoulder. “What happened?”
I swallow hard. “There was a call. It was him.”
