The stranger’s tat was hidden nearly as quickly as it was revealed.
Cass knew he had to tread carefully so… “Maybe,” Cass allowed. “Do you happen to sport one of those yourself? You got a two-headed snake twined on your body?”
“No.” Brittle. “Because I’m not a murdering bastard. This is your last warning. Get out of my way. I’m getting to Agnes.”
“I am a murdering bastard.” It was what the world saw. Not Agnes, though. She keeps telling me that I’m not the villain because she is absolutely adorable like that. “You’ll find out that truth if you don’t back your ass up and get the hell out of here in the next five seconds.”
“This isn’t Night Striker territory. You belong on the East Coast."
“I belong anywhere I want.” Five, four, three…It was Cass’s turn to shift his stance a bit, too. Or rather, his turn to move his arm and pull back the t-shirt that Axel had given to him so that Cass could reveal the weapon he held. Two and one…
His new enemy glared down at the gun. “Gonna shoot me right here? With witnesses around?”
“Not if you follow directions. Your time is up, though, and my finger is itching.”
“I’m not armed. Didn’t come out here with a weapon.” The man put his helmet on the ground and slowly lifted both of his hands. Except, he didn’t raise them with his palms out, the way perps usually showed cops that they weren’t a threat. His hands lifted. Both hands. Each hand quickly formed an L shape. The guy’s right hand rose toward his chin. His thumb brushed across the faint cleft there, only for the right hand to dip in a fall and tap on top of his still L-shaped left hand. He did the move only once, before both of his hands dropped back to his sides.
Sonofabitch.
Cass’s heart raced faster. No way had he just seen the sign that he thought he’d seen. But, then again, he knew his sign language. His mother had made sure of that. He’d been signing before he’d ever spoken. And this prick before him—the guy knew enough about Cass to realize that he could communicate with him this way.
“She won’t appreciate you shooting me,” the man said, his voice low and rough and carrying only to Cass. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s an unforgivable sin in her eyes. You pull that trigger, and you may as well be the one who is dead to her.”
“Javion, I want us to be friends, I really do.” Agnes peered through the window blinds and tried to figure out what in the heck was happening outside. Currently, a lot of bikers were watching the standoff between the two big men about twenty feet from the front of the tattoo parlor. “But if you don’t get away from that door and let me out, we are going to have a problem.”
“Personally. Responsible.” His retort. Basically, the same retort he’d given her before. After that retort, she’d elbowed her way out of his grip, and he’d taken up a guard position near the front door. “That means Cass will personally rip out my spine and shove it down my throat if you get out this door. I don’t want my spine ripped out, so I’m following orders. And we are not friends. We met like four days ago.”
“Some friendships happen really fast. Thought that was what we had going on.” Her eyes narrowed. Cass and Ryan were having a stand-off. She could see Ryan’s lips moving, but she had zero idea what he was saying.
How in the world is my brother here? But he was. As soon as he’d taken off that helmet, and she’d seen his beloved, crooked nose—uh, her fault, by the way. An accident when she’d fallen out of a treehouse as a kid and he’d caught her and her flying foot.
As soon as she’d seen his face in that parking lot, she’d felt like she’d just gotten walloped in the stomach. Her brother should not be there. He should not be riding around on a motorcycle. And he should not be facing off with Cass while her lover held a gun.
Lover.
Her brother and her lover were about to kill each other. Talk about a nightmare situation.
“I need to read lips. Stat.” Agnes wished that she possessed his mom’s superpower. But she didn’t know how to read lips. Not at all. She’d just focused on learning sign language once she’d realized that she needed to team up with Cass. And she’d only learned basics. Not like she knew how to have a whole long conversation in sign language or anything.
Ryan lifted his hands.
“No weapons,” she whispered. “So don’t shoot him, Cass.” Trust me.
“That fucker has weapons on him. He might not have them in his hands, but he has weapons.” Certainty from Javion. He was peeking out the open front door. A very slightly open front door. One he’d cracked open a few inches, the better for him to keep tabs on the scene outside.
It was a door she needed to exit.
Not like there is just one door in this place, Agnes. There has to be a back door, too. Bear had gone toward the rear of the parlor, with Raz. Bear hadn’t come back yet.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched Ryan bring his thumb to his chin. Her breath shuddered out. Sister. He’s signing to Cass that I’m his sister. Not like she could have blurted out that the biker closing in on the shop was her big brother. She just didn’t trust Javion and Bear and certainly not Raz with that kind of information.
Ryan…her brother worked deep cover ops. But usually, those deep cover jobs were overseas. They involved cases with the CIA. No way should he have been posing as a—well, what was he? An MC wannabe?
Cass didn’t lower his weapon after her brother signed, and that was bad. He should have lowered the gun. Cass was supposed to trust her.
She and Cass—they needed more time alone. Time to talk. To really clear the air and share every secret that they had. It was just that, when they actually were alone, they were either, uh, fucking…or being attacked. Their locations kept being leaked.
And how in the heck did Ryan find me?
