1
NASH
THEN
I waited until dawn to ride out.
Frost in the trees, harsh winter sun filtering through the clouds—it was beautiful. Or maybe I was feeling emotional from being back on my hog after being stuck on crutches for weeks on end. Hell, I wasstillon crutches, but I left them propped against the bar and made my escape, rumbling out of the yard while the rest of my world was still sleeping. Only Mateo saw me leave, watching from Embry’s broken window, misery lining his scarred face that didn’t fit the good news we’d had about Saint tonight.
“He’s legged it.” Cam growled around a tired sigh. “I’d be pissed off, but anything beats seeing him as fucked up as he was a week ago.”
I concurred, a shudder overriding the rumble of my hog as I hit the road for the first time in a month. Saint, man.Saint.That was the other reason I needed to get out. All this sitting around with my dick in my hand had left me too much time to think, and I couldn’t handle another daymare of him burning to death.
Daydreams all you got to worry about?
If only.
I set my jaw. I roared away from the compound, and my hog felt good between my legs, even through the throb of the knee I’d dislocated the same night Saint had been hurt. The one he’d helpfully jammed back into place—without so much as a whiskey—to stop everyone getting killed for the sake of me braining some cunt who’d disrespected my woman.
Saint was good like that. An absolute legend.
We nearly lost him.
Fucking hell.
I gunned the throttle, hoping to put some distance between me and the club before Rubi woke up and realised I’d scarpered. It was a risk. My best friend was an early riser, however much sleep he’d lost over the last few weeks. And worse, he had a direct line to my other best friend, one far prettier than him, with a quicker temper and a tongue as sharp as razor wire.
Orla. I took a breath, imagining I could taste her on the winter breeze. She needed a permanent bodyguard. I pointed my hog south-east while my brain scrolled through the possibilities, outright rejecting ninety percent of the list with little thought. I loved that woman more than life itself, but she was an O’Brian. Gorgeous, grouchy, and contrary as fuck. It took a special kind of brother to be around her twenty-four seven and not get kicked in the dick, and we had zero realistic candidates for the job.
Need fresh blood.
Or, at least, fresh tous. No one had the patience to school rookies on the road.
Fuck, no one had the time. Not right now. So I pushed on, riding through the glittery winter wonderland and deep into territory that should’ve had me checking my mirror every six yards, second-guessing my decision to ride out alone.
Should’ve. Didn’t. Maybe it was cabin fever, but as I zipped through Crow turf, I let the shackles of forced inactivity slip away. For long, blissful minutes, I forgot about gang wars and death. I forgot about everything except the wind in my face, the rumble of my hog, and the silence of my phone.
It didn’t last. Not much in this life ever did, save the initials carved into my heart.
OO 4eva.
My phone blew up. I ignored it. The burner in my saddle bags joined in for fun, and I ignored that too until I came to a place where I felt like stopping.
Tap Lane, a few miles out from hardcore Crow land. We’d fought here. Many times.
Never lost.
I leaned my bike against the old gate, enjoying the sun in my face, and retrieved both phones.
Rubi:Unless you’ve snuck off for an early booty call, colour me not amused
Rubi:Seriously, Nashie. Send me a motherfucking pin before the queen gets here and lances my balls
Rubi:NASH
I wedged a cigarette in my mouth, typing with one hand.
Nash:business, bro. i’ll be back
