His fingers find my chin, and he grazes his thumb over the peak, brushing just below my lower lip.
I can’t think or breathe. I can barely manage to say, “Okay.”
“You came here on your own, Willa. And maybe it was for my brother or the ranch or whatever reason you’ve decided justifies driving across three states to come see me. I really don’t care what you tell yourself. All that matters is that you’re here now, and you put yourself in this position.”
“What position?”
The smirk that crawls his face makes my insides shiver. “We have unfinished business, Willa. You’re not walking away until I say so this time.”
6
Chaos
Soul stops at oneside of me, Venom at the other. We pause in front of the motel, assessing the dilapidated building. Ghost has the three of us running down leads on the men my brother sent to find Willa, and this is by far the worst of the places we’ve been sent so far. It’s falling apart.
I’m getting tired of chasing them around the city.
I’m tired in general.
With Willa in my bed, I’ve barely slept. Lying there doesn’t do me any good when she’s so close, so I wander the clubhouse instead.
As if this mess with Willa isn’t enough to keep me on edge, there’s the Feds, peaking my irritation level. They raided the strip club a few nights ago and temporarily shut us down on a bullshit oversight with our liquor license. Monroe got it cleared up in a day, but the city dragged their feet giving us approval to reopen, sotonight is the first night we’ve been able to do so. We’re bleeding cash, and with investigators breathing down our necks, we can’t touch any money we didn’t obtain legally.
I’m angry, exhausted, and itching to take out some aggression.
If all goes well here, I might finally get my chance.
“Five bucks says Venom is the one taking a bullet today.” Soul looks up at the crumbling motel.
Venom climbs off his bike. “I thought the goal was no bullets.”
“The goal is always no bullets, but it rarely happens,” I remind him. “I’m with Soul. Five bucks says you’re the one getting shot.”
“Why me?”
“It’s always you pulling the heroic shit.”
Venom laughs but doesn’t disagree. He patched in a little over a year ago, and in that time, he’s bled more than most of us. He’s taken bullets protecting old ladies. Knives to the gut. The guy is a fucking mess of scars and tattoos.
“How many of your nine lives have you burned through already?” I ask, reaching for my gun.
“Probably a few too many.”
“Well then.” Soul holds up his piece. “Let’s see if we can get through this without burning through a couple more.”
We head up the rickety motel stairs, drawing eyes from every direction.
A few guys hang on the railing on the third level. But when they take in our cuts, they disappear back into their rooms, not wanting any trouble. Most people in this city know to steer clear when they see a Twisted Kings patch.
Soul takes the lead, and I cover his back, keeping an eye on the parking lot for any trouble that might roll up. None of the plates are Texas, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gotten smart and changed them.
When we reach the last door on the third level, Venom and I stay hidden around the corner so they can’t spot us through the window. Soul slaps a palm over the peephole, knocking with his other hand.
For a long moment, there’s no noise on the other side of the door. No movement from the windows and no footsteps. My annoyance grows at another dead end. But right as we’re about to give up, someone rustles in the motel room.
“Who is it?” they ask through the door with a raspy voice, like they just woke up.
“Your card got declined when we re-ran it for the night. Pay up or get out.”
