"But your brother–"
"He's a dick, but if Ryker and Penny talk him down once we get there, he'll at least hide us. Rule number one, remember? We protect women, even ones we don't particularly like. Holly will leave him if he turns out to bethatheartless."
At least, I hope she will. Despite my better judgement, I've always sort of admired her. She takes no shit, including my brother's. I like that in a girl.
Brooklyn settles unhappily back into her seat and examines my arm. "You're bleeding through the bandage."
The "bandage" is the nightie that we stole from the cabin. It's been made into a sort of tourniquet to staunch my bleeding arm. It left Brooklyn wearing nothing at all. So she stayed low in the seat on the way over, until I could stop along the side of the road and scrounge a blanket from the trunk. She has it wrapped around her like a beach towel now and is licking the salt from her fries off of her fingers. She still doesn't look happy.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Kase."
"Do you trust me?"
She chews her lip for a second before finally nodding. "I do. You know I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have come to you."
I lean heavily against my headrest and stare at the ceiling of our stolen car. It's pretty fucking nice, all things considered. It's an Escalade, something that none of the Spades would ever be able to afford. Average Joes in South Hollens are terrified of us, but we're really not the worst things around. Most of us are blue collar chumps, just like everybody else. We hold down jobs, we have people we love and look after, and a lot of us have kids. We run a tight ship and we don't take shit, but at least we're not like the Kings. We don't run drugs, we don't hurt the working girls. We're not saints, but we're not monsters either.
The Kings? Well, it's turning out they're not quite as bad as the Hellions, but they're still trash. The only way they can afford shit like this is by selling smack and coke to kids.
"Did you think it would turn out like this?" I ask her wearily. "That we'd end up together again? That we'll probably die together?"
Brooklyn doesn't look at me before she answers. "I didn't know how it was going to turn out, honestly. At first I was really scared, you know? Coming over to the Spade side of town might have gotten me killed or worse. There's a lot of people who'd like to get back at my father. And then there was the struggle to track you down. No one really knows you, Kase. They don't know where you hang out or who you see. There was only one person who had a clue where you'd be."
She's right. No one in the Spades knows me, and I like it better that way. I've existed just fine, living on the periphery of the MC. It's easier than warming up to someone and having them ditch me once they learn what happened to my family. I'm never going to escape my role as the villain in that story, though I'm as much a victim as Cruz. My chest feels tight and it's a struggle to draw in air. Brooklyn's observation leaves me cold. No one really gives a damn besides Penny.
Well, Penny and Brooklyn.
Brooklyn continues, undeterred by my silence. "I was also scared you'd send me packing, even after everything that happened. It's been a long time and I knew you'd probably moved on."
"I didn't," I say with another humorless laugh.
"I thought you must have. You seemed pretty eager to jump me in the hallway."
There's a sour note in her voice. She's still pissed about that. Can't say I blame her.
"I was looking for a quick fuck," I admit. "But that's all I've had. Quick fucks. One and done girls that I don't call and I sure as hell don't get cozy with. There hasn't been anyone real. Not since you."
I wait for her to tell me the same, make some profound statement, maybe. That we were meant for each other and that's why we were miserable apart. But she doesn't say anything. When I glance over at her, her head is pressed against the window, her eyelashes tracing the curve of her cheekbone. Her mouth is slightly parted, releasing soft breaths, but she doesn't stir. Her blanket is slipping without her hands to hold it up.
She's fallen asleep, and I didn't even notice. So I tug her blanket up around her shoulders to preserve her modesty and flick the heat up to keep her comfortable.
Then I settle back into my seat and wait for Ryker.
12
Brooklyn
The interior of the car is warm, and I'm reluctant to leave it when Kase wakes me.
When I crack my eyes open, I'm greeted by the warm pastel rainbow of daybreak. The sun is inching its way over the horizon. I rarely get to see sunrises in South Hollens, so this is a treat. No rain taps the windshield and it appears we're going to be treated to our first sunny day in weeks.
A less welcome sight is the car and bike that occupy the two spaces on either side of us. To the left is a small car that looks shabby compared to our stolen Escalade. On the other side is an Iron 883 that's in much better shape, and occupied by a veritable giant. Dark-haired, rough featured, and handsome enough any sane woman would love to take a ride with and on him.
This must be Ryker.
I size him up, trying to ascertain what it was about him that compelled my father to let him go. Daddy is many things, but merciful isn't one of them. There's only one reason this man isn't six feet underground for violating our territory. He was useful to daddy in some way. Trent McNeil is now behind bars, the Spades in a state of flux, and struggling to beat back their splinter group, the Hellions. Had that been what daddy was after?
If that was the case, it made no sense for him to turn down the Hellions. Enemy of my enemy and all that good shit. He should be leaping at the chance to end the Spades once and for all. But he isn't, and that confuses the hell out of me.
