Cruz grimaces. "They're not. And I'm backing them. I just can't see this ending well. They're already threatening to break away from the MC and start one of their own. The Hellions is the name they're throwing around, I think."
"Sounds like a pro wrestler," I snort.
Cruz's lips twitch, but he didn't smile. "It won't be so funny if it happens."
I sober at once. The alcohol has softened the edges of my panic, but it hasn't doused it. I nod numbly and stare down at my empty glass.
Cruz pivots in his seat to look Ryker full in the face. "Now tell me how the hell you got out of their territory alive. When Benny strayed even an inch into King territory he was shot on the spot."
"It was Cleo," Ryker admits, giving me a sidelong look that is equal parts frustration and admiration. "If she hadn't been there to talk everyone down, I'm sure that I'd have gotten shot. She got us an audience with Gardel, and then negotiated for our safe return. She'd make a hell of an ambassador if there's ever a chance in hell we reconcile with the Kings."
And maybe hell would freeze over. But none of us say it out loud.
"Dare I ask what you promised him?" Cruz says with a sigh.
I open my mouth to speak, but Ryker cuts me off.
"He wants Trent out of the way. He thinks that if there's a power vacuum he can take advantage. Maybe he's right. But I'm not going to renege on my promise. Trent has to go, Cruz. I don't care how it affects the internal politics. I'm not letting him hurt Cleo again. Brenda stuck her in the leg. And we barely escaped with our lives yesterday. I'm not taking it lying down."
"Ryker--"
"What would you do if it were Holly?" Ryker counters before he can finish.
Cruz's face hardens and his lips turn down in a scowl. Ryker has made his point and I can tell even before Cruz speaks that he's won the argument.
"I'd say fuck the rules and kill the bastard."
"And you started the whole mess by killing Damian," Ryker points out. "And now Trent thinks Cleo has something to do with it."
Cruz's face falls, and he looks remorseful. But there's no changing the past. Damian is dead, and Cruz is his killer. We all agreed at the time that a cover up was our best option. Now it's come back to bite us in the ass in a way no one could have predicted.
I wonder why Ryker has left off the last part of our bargain with Gardel. It would be better for Cruz to know, right? But, as always, I keep my mouth shut. Ryker has to have a good reason for what he's doing. I'll just have to trust him.
The conversation peters out after a while and I can tell just by looking at Cruz and Holly that they've been run ragged. Bryan can be hard to keep up with at the moment. Heaven help me when he becomes mobile.
"Go home," I say, pushing Holly towards the door. "You're dead on your feet. We've got him."
"Are you sure?" she asks, raising one pale, perfect eyebrow. "That had to be a sleepless night in Gardel's territory."
My face heats and I just know I'm turning scarlet. I had slept very well beneath Gardel's roof. Because of Ryker exhausting me. Cruz doesn't seem to have noticed but Holly's eyes fly wide and a broad smile stretches her lips. She knows. God, do I just have "I had sex with Ryker" written on my forehead?
"Call me," she says, grin growing even more vulpine. "Or you could come out with Penny and I tonight. We could talk."
Code for, spill all your dirty secrets, Cleo. I'm going to get such a ribbing from the girls about this. Maybe I deserve it. I've been blind for so long.
"I will," I say. "Later."
"I'm not sure it's a good idea to be out and about, Cleo," Cruz says in a warning tone. "At least not until we've dealt with this."
I nod. "Whatever you say, Cruz. You're the boss."
He nods, though there's humor glinting in his dark eyes. "And don't you forget it."
* * *
I spend most of the day curled next to the window, glancing anxiously out at the street. It's getting dark, and by now Penny and Holly are likely discussing the sordid details of my sex life over drinks. I'm torn by just what's bothering me most. The idea that Trent is out there just waiting to plug me, or that I've hurt my chances at keeping Bryan. My lawyer called to tell me the judge was not pleased. If I don't turn up to the next hearing, my chances fall even further.
But what did I say? That I was in the middle of a turf war between a raging psychopath and I'd been forced to flee into enemy territory? I doubted that would go over well, even with the most unscrupulous judge.
