I sigh. “That won’t be necessary. Besides, one of Axel’s stipulations is that I watch you, twenty-four-seven.”
Remi groans dramatically. “Because I borrowed twenty quid?”
“No, Rem, because you stole it and only put it back once you realised it was a test.” I turn her towards the kitchen, pushing the door open. “Now, let’s eat.”
The noise from the brothers as they fight over food and talk about football and bikes is overwhelming, and for a second, I see her flinch like she’s dragged back into another memory, a place she doesn’t want to revisit. So, I gently slip my arm around her shoulders and lead her to an empty seat. I pile her plate with hot food and snatch the last slice of toasted bread. She smiles gratefully as I place it in front of her before filling a second plate for myself.
“So, are you and Sasha . . .” Her words trail off as she takes a bite of the toast.
“I’m single,” I say bluntly.
“But you have sex?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do you love her?”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “What is it with women and love? We fuck, so we have to be in love? Shit don’t work like that. She’s a means to an end.”
“Nice,” Remi mutters, her expression filled with disgust. “Does she know that?”
“Every conversation we have is a fight,” I say, shaking my head in irritation. “You’re giving me earache and you’re not even my old lady.”
“I never asked you to keep rescuing me,” she mutters.
I bite back a response, instead watching her as she eats. She’s the most beautiful yet infuriating person I’ve ever known and watching her eat delicate little mouthfuls as her mistrusting eyes scan the room makes me want to kiss every inch that has ever been hurt.
Which reminds me, I have a certain someone I need to speak to today.
I get off the bike and remove my helmet. “Wait here,” I tell Remi firmly. “Don’t take this off,” I say, tapping her helmet. “Don’t lift this,” I continue, knocking on the dark visor. “And under no circumstance do you come into that building,” I say, pointing to the warehouse behind me.
“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.
“Club business. That’s code for shut the fuck up and stay here.”
I head in, giving one last glance back to make sure she’s staying put before disappearing inside.
I stalk up to the security guard slouched behind the desk, his feet kicked up, humming off-key to whatever crap is in hisearbuds. He startles when he finally notices me, jerking upright and yanking one bud out.
“Hey, how the hell did you get in here?”
“I’m looking for Dean,” I growl. “He’s expecting me.”
The guard smirks, like we’re sharing some kind of joke, and nods towards the corridor. “Sure thing. Through there.”
I stride down the hallway, the silence hitting heavy. No voices, no movement. Just me and the thud of my boots.
The door at the end groans when I shove it open.
Inside, a guy jolts upright, nearly spilling the line of powder he’s cutting on the filthy table. His eyes go wide. “Shit! Who the fuck are you?”
“Surprise, motherfucker.”
I cross the room in two strides, fist closing around his throat. He gags, choking as I slam him back. The table rattles, causing little baggies to scatter like confetti.
“I’m your worst nightmare,” I snarl, tightening my grip until his face goes red. Then I fling him across the table, powder exploding in the air like snow.
“Who are you working for?” I demand, snatching up the heavy block he’d been cutting. I wave it in his face like proof of his sins.
