“Back the fuck up!” I snap my head toward the angry voice and see Snake barreling in our direction. “That’s Sandman’s.”
Leah and Meela exchange “what the fuck?” glances.
“I didn’t know, Snake,” Sully squeaks, quickly putting several inches between us. “Honest to God.”
“Get the fuck outta here.” Snake takes a menacing step forward. “If it happens again, it’s God’s Glory for you.”
Sully bolts around the block, falling twice in his haste to get away. What the heck is happening here?
“What do you mean by‘that’s Sandman’s’?” I ask, frowning at him. “I don’t even know anyone by that name.”
“You’ll see.” Snake snickers and saunters down the sidewalk.
I look to my new friends for clarification, but no responses are forthcoming. “Somebody wanna tell me who this guy is?”
Meela speechless? That doesn’t bode well.
“Snake’s brother,” Leah answers, wringing her hands.
“Kent’s resident hellraiser and someone you never, ever fuck with,” Meela adds. “He has a bad temper, bad rep, hell, bad everything. How in the ever-loving fuck did you get on his radar?”
I mentally rummage through my memory bank, but that name doesn’t ring a bell.
“I don’t know,” I whine. “I swear, I never heard of him before now.”
“Well, he knows you, sweetie,” she quips. “Slapped his name all over that ass.”
“Obviously he has me confused with someone else.”
“I have to go,” Leah says, then peers at me. “Watch your back. Sandman isn’t right in the head.”
I give an imperceptible nod, picking at my cuticles again, which earns me another pop on the hand. It’s a nervous habit I’ve had since forever.
We maneuver through the congested sidewalk, retracing yesterday’s path to the convenience store.
“What does she mean by he’s not right in the head?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. There’s regular crazy, medium crazy, and ‘get this guy a straitjacket’ crazy. Sandman falls into the last category.”
Perfect. Just what I freaking need.
“Supposedly, he handles the club’sdirtywork. Hence his name,” Meela whispers. “Of course, that’s just a rumor. Hasn’t been proven.”
“He kills people!” I exclaim.
“Keep your voice down,” she admonishes me. “You trying to have the Gods on our backs?”
“I’m starting to freak out,” I pant, breathing becoming labored.
“Calm down, like you said, maybe he got his wires crossed.”Meela points her index finger at her temple and moves it in a circular motion. “Straitjacket crazy, remember?”
Meela chatters all the way to the store, but I completely tune her out. I can’t stop thinking about Sandman. How dare he lay a claim on me? I don’t belong to him—psychopath, hitman, biker or not.
After buying more groceries—nothing that needs to be refrigerated—I leave the store and veer into the woods a few minutes later. Maybe Snake can arrange a meeting between me and his brother. I’d rather not talk to that arrogant asshole, but I need to get to the bottom of this situation ASAP.
Suddenly, the air shifts, causing the fine hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Something is wrong; I feel it in the marrow of my bones. I spin in a circle, but only trees greet me.There’s nothing out here. It’s your imagination playing tricks on you.
I keep walking, though my apprehension intensifies with each step deeper into the dense woodland.
