“I wasn’t about to stand around like a lost puppy while you played hero.”
His nostrils flare. “Jesus Christ, Remi. You can’t just wander off. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”
“I was fine,” I snap, folding my arms to stop them from shaking. “Lee was harmless.”
“Lee?” The way he spits the name makes it sound like an insult. He steps closer, his height casting me in shadow. “Don’t ever pull that shit again. Don’t leave my sight.”
The weight of his stare pins me in place, heat burning up my neck. Guilt gnaws at me, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to look like I’m not hiding a damn thing. “Fine,” I mutter. “Next time, I’ll sit quietly and wait, just like a good little stray.”
His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking as he exhales hard through his nose. For a second, I think he’s going to lose it. Instead, he yanks his helmet on and thrusts the spare one towards me. “Get on,” he growls.
I swallow, my throat dry, and do as I’m told, praying he can’t feel the wad of stolen cash burning against my skin.
“I need to drop the takings to Axel, then we’ll eat.” Shadow’s voice is gruff, final. With that, the engine roars to life and we tear back towards the clubhouse.
Minutes later, the bike screeches to a stop, and I swing off before he’s even killed the engine. His eyes narrow, suspicious, but I plaster on a quick smile. “I need the bathroom,” I blurt, already backing towards the door.
I don’t wait for a reply. My legs carry me fast, two steps at a time, heart hammering as I slip into his room and close the door quietly behind me. I drop to my knees, scanning the space like a criminal casing a joint.Come on, there’s gotta be somewhere.A shoebox, a drawer, anything.
I lift the bed skirt, peering into the shadows. Nothing but dust bunnies, a rusty tin box, and a duffel bag shoved deep against the wall.
I drag the bag out first, fingers fumbling at the zip.
The sight inside knocks the air clean out of me. Stacks of cash. Thick bundles banded tight, wedged in until the fabric strains. Not hundreds . . . thousands.
“Shit,” I whisper, clapping a hand over my mouth. My pulse thunders as I fumble the bag shut, shoving it back into place.
Panic claws through me. He’s sitting on enough money to make my debt look like pocket change, and I can’t even ask him for help.I won’t.
Scrambling to my feet, I snatch up the shopping bags piled in the corner. I yank out the trainer box, pry off the lid, and shove the stolen notes inside, burying them under the tissue paper. My hands shake so badly, I nearly drop it.
It’ll do for now. Later, when I’ve got more time, I’ll find somewhere better until I can get rid of it.
The creak of the stairs makes my blood run cold. Heavy, steady footsteps.Shadow.
I shove the shopping bags back against the wall, tug the trainer box into the pile, and scramble to my feet just as the door handle turns. My pulse is so loud, I’m sure he can hear it.
The door swings open, and there he is, broad shoulders filling the frame, kutte hanging open, his dark eyes sweeping the room. “What are you doing up here?” His voice is low, suspicious.
My throat dries. I force a shrug, trying to look casual. “Bathroom was busy downstairs,” I lie, keeping my arms folded so he won’t see the way my hands shake. “Figured I’d come up here.”
He studies me for a beat too long, eyes narrowing. Then he steps inside, brushing past me to toss his kutte over the back of a chair. The mattress dips as he drops onto the bed, elbows braced on his knees.
“You wanna eat out or order in?” he asks.
“I’d rather just talk,” I say. The last thing I want is food. My stomach’s too knotted, guilt gnawing at me from the inside.
“Fine.” He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sit, let’s talk.”
I lower myself onto the mattress, deliberately keeping to the far end. “You’ve been really kind,” I begin, but he groans loudly, dragging his palms down his face.
“Don’t you dare give me the speech.”
I blink. “The speech?”
“The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bullshit.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I mutter, though my throat feels tight. “But there’s truth in it, Shadow.”
