Jealousy. That’s what this is. Pure, unexpected, unwanted jealousy.
I back away before they notice me. Head out the side door into the cool morning air and just breathe.
What the hell is wrong with me? I should be happy for them. I am happy for them.
But I’m also pissed off, and I don’t know what to do with that feeling.
The night at the cabin comes back to me. Bonnie on the bed, her skin against mine. I thought that was a one-time thing, a goodbye before she got married to Marcus.
Except she didn’t marry Marcus. She married Ash.
And now what? I just pretend that night never happened? Watch her be someone else’s wife and act like I don’t want her too?
Fuck that.
I need to hit something.
I head to the garage and grab my vest. Check my gun, make sure my knife is strapped to my belt. If I’m going hunting for trouble, might as well be prepared.
Ghost appears in the doorway. “Where you going?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Patrol. Thought I’d check the east side businesses, make sure Savage Legion didn’t hit anything overnight.”
He studies me with those dark eyes that see too much. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You look like you want to kill someone.”
“Maybe I do.” I swing onto my Road King. “That a problem?”
“Only if you get yourself killed doing something stupid.” He crosses his arms. “Want company?”
“Nope.”
“Titan—”
“I’m fine, Ghost. Just need some air.” I fire up the engine. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I pull out before he can argue.
The morning streets are empty. I ride east, toward the businesses we protect, but I’m not really looking at them. I’m looking for Savage Legion colors. Looking for a fight.
Takes me twenty minutes to find one.
Three bikes are parked outside a diner we don’t protect. Savage Legion patches are clear as day. They’re sitting at a table visible through the window, eating breakfast like they don’t have a care in the world.
Like they didn’t spend the last two weeks terrorizing us in our own territory.
I park across the street and walk in.
The bell above the door chimes, and all three of them look up. Recognition flashes across their faces.
“Morning, boys,” I say. “Nice day for breakfast.”
