Or hit them with a hammer.
I started the Ducati and rolled to where Cam waited. He had dark eyes, but not darker than Ranger’s, and his simmering stare did not affect me. I pointed at the gates, gesturing for him to lead, and we sped away together.
* * *
We rode for a long time. Miles disappeared, and as the winter sunshine came and went, I paid little attention to where we were going. It was a while before I realised we had circled Devon to reach the coastal road that led to Crow territory.
I had no reason not to trust Cam. We’d fought on the same side too often to doubt each other now. But I did not like this place. Ranger had spent many years here. Few of them had been happy.
And Locke?
I shivered, my knuckles straining around the handlebars. I felt sick, weak, and the temptation to blow past Cam and escape tightened my throat. But I would not leave him unprotected. Whether he knew it or not, I could not think of a moment when I ever had.
We rode on, through the town the Crows had once called their own and to the tired complex that housed their base. It was boarded up and deserted, the only sign of occupation a cluster of young bikers who emerged from the dilapidated garage.
Kings, not Crows.
Mostly, anyway.
Cam eased to a stop. I pulled up behind and sent him a subtle nod.
I have you.
To what end, I didn’t know, and I did not much care. The business of the Rebel Kings interested me only as much as it involved Ranger, and he was not here, a reality that rattled me more than the discord I’d felt entering Crow territory in the first place.
I miss him.
Cam dismounted and approached a young King almost as tall and intimidating as he was. This man, though, he was no Cam O’Brian. His edges were softer, his gaze more placid than violent, and he lacked the barbed energy of a man who’d spent his whole life fighting to survive.
Axel, apparently. He was in charge of renovating the disused garage, and it didn’t take long to deduce the Kings now owned this space and the land and buildings around it.
You knew that.
If I did, it was frombefore, and beyond meeting Ranger—Asher—and the births of my sister’s children, there was not much from that lifetime I wanted to remember.
Axel gave Cam a tour. I took little notice of him either, save that this man was quiet and less irreverent than the Kings I’d grown used to. He certainly took life more seriously than Ranger, and it made me miss my love even more.
One month.
Cam and Axel parted ways at the edge of the Crow property. I slotted in beside Cam, facing the opposite way.
He lit a cigarette. “You don’t have to guard me from Axel. He’s been with us a long time.”
“He does not look old enough.”
“Neither do you.”
“He reminds me of someone.”
“Rubi.” Cam offered me his cigarette box. “Before he got hench, and when he had short hair for about a week. Everyone says it. How’s the bike?”
Save the similar tattoo style, I did not see this supposed resemblance, and I waved the cigarettes away, focusing on the question. Because I knew the answer. “Is fast.Loud.”
Cam exhaled and regarded me through the resulting cloud of smoke. “Something bothering you?”
“I do not like this place.” I verbalised my earlier thought and cast a wary glance around. “Locke was hurt here.”
Shadows darkened Cam’s face. “We didn’t know that when we won the auction, but we’re hoping we can fix the fucked-up aura this shithole has always had.”
