“Get the hell out of here.” Cass shoved him back.
River jumped up from his stool and scuttled across the bar. He glanced back, twice, and almost tripped three times.
Cass took another swig of his beer. He did not have time to deal with idiots or wannabes. He had to get his head in the freaking game because the show was about to start.
Same bar, different night. Yep, he was back at his favorite crash site, The Bottomless Pit. The same bar he’d been inside when Agnes had first sashayed her sexy self into his world.
Come back to me, Agnes.
He was waiting for her. He hadn’t seen her since the showdown at the FBI office. A new day—and now, night—had dawned. The big scene was about to go down. He was so ready for this scene to be done.
Members of his MC were there. Other groups. Lots of watchful eyes. The perfect, public place. And it was about to be turned into utter chaos.
I just want Agnes. I want my hands on her. I want her to be mine.
Because she wouldn’t be safe, not until everyone knew that she didn’t have allegiance to the Feds any longer. That her only allegiance was to him.
He turned toward the bar. Time ticked slowly past.
How the hell did I wind up here?
Maybe he could have gone down a different path, a lifetime ago. But that ship had long since sailed.
Whispers. Mutters. The faint tap, tap, tap of heels. Because, sure, why wouldn’t she wear sexy heels again?
“Cass.” Her voice. Husky. Warm. Seductive.
He took another swig of the beer. He didn’t face her. Not yet.
“Cass.” Urgency. “You need to leave this place. Now. They’re coming.”
Taking his time, he put the beer down. Then he turned toward her.
Black top. Black pants. High heels. A cute little bag on her shoulder. She looked sexy and feminine. Not the hard-ass FBI agent. Her hair had been pulled back into some kind of twist. Her features were delicate, beautiful.
“Don’t think you should be here,” he said. The words weren’t rehearsed. There was no rehearsal. No script. He knew what was going down, yeah, but getting from point A to point B…
I’m gonna wing it.
He truly meant what he’d said, though. She shouldn’t be there. She still had a chance to end this game. Now. Before it was too late.
But she rushed toward him and closed those few feet that had been between their bodies. Her hands lifted. Her soft palms pressed against the stubble on his cheeks. “This bar is about to be raided.” A very clear announcement.
In response to her announcement, chairs scraped across the floor. Boots thudded for the exits.
He didn’t move.
Her lips pulled down. “You think we don’t know this bar is a front? That you own it, Cass?”
“Fuck,” came from the bartender behind the counter. He slapped down his cleaning rag and stomped for the kitchen.
“They are closing in,” she said as she stared straight into Cass’s eyes. “They are after you. They’ve been after you for a long time. I was supposed to take you down.”
He was still sitting on the bar stool. They were at eye level.
She leaned in and planted a fierce, passionate kiss on his lips. “I can’t,” she breathed. “I won’t.”
Uh, yeah. Right.
