He turns his attention back into his car, and I can hear the addition of both a male and female voice. The next moment the driver’s door opens, and out steps Lew Higgins. Much like Siderno, Higgins is conviction free despite being well known as Siderno’s go to man. He comes towards me, hands up like this isn’t the first time he’s done this. He’s hard to read but a lot easier to be around. His presence is nothing compared to his boss’s.
Higgins is all eyes, scouring the scene waiting for danger, but at the same time, he’s got this mask of indifference going on that blazes brighter and brighter the longer his boss takes.
When Siderno climbs out of his car, I have to step back. To give him room, because not only does he tower over me, but he also commands every bit of my attention and focus.
“Come on, darling, Jeffers…”
He’s cut off by a woman’s voice. It’s different than what I expected his woman would sound like. I was expecting a practised, demure socialite soprano, but it’s not like that at all, it’s husky and barely audible. And there’s this part of me that fucking bounces all over the place when the reality I’m going to be one of the first people to see who his elusive partner is.
Her hand comes out. And much like her voice, it’s not what I expected. I thought she’d be polished nails and perfect tanned skin. I had this mindset that she’d be a willowy supermodel, unworldly in her perfect beauty, dressed in runway fashion, but her polish is chipped, her hand marred by nicks and faded scars. As the woman climbs out, her hair catches the afternoon sun, and it’s like the deepest chestnut brown, with hints of red and cinnamon. Her long hair hangs like a curtain in front of her face. And she has fucking legs for days, wrapped in black leather that looks butter soft but painted on. She’s also wearing a long sleeve white top, covered in angel wings up the sleeve—classic Fallen MC logo.
I can hear her grumbling under her breath as she makes her way out the car, her fingers intertwined with his. He doesn’t let her go. He fucking crowds her, his hand firmly in hers. He intentionally steps a foot in front of her too, protectively, while his other hand settles on her back, fucking lovingly.
When she flips her hair back, my whole being is flipped ass over tit.
“Raney…” The rush of air out my lungs squeezes so hard it hurts.
The pressure I felt before is nothing like this. Honestly, I stumble under the weight of realisation of being face to face with her again.
Raney was always breathtakingly stunning, now that she’s grown into a woman, she is all that and more. So much more.
Instead of greeting me in any way, she looks at me like I’m someone she vaguely used to know. The nonchalance blinking back at me from her green eyes is like an arrow through my throat. I can’t utter a sound; I can barely breathe.
“Now, you have draggedmybeautiful woman out of the car, perhaps you can explain what the issue is?”
Lew is already on his phone; I should be cautioning him to hang up. I should be doing a lot of things, like searching Siderno’s person and his car for contraband. I should be reading him his rights; I should be finding one fucking thing that Cap could use to give us an inch in nailing something on him. Instead, all the fast-track training, the endless support of my superiors pushing me hard and helping me blitz through years of that training, my ability to think under pressure, to read the scene for possible risk or danger, vanishes completely.
I’m left in the same bone deep mess of emotion I was when she was hooked up to every machine the hospital had when she was barely alive.
“Ahh, Jeffers keeping people waiting seems to be your forte. Let’s hope this time it doesn’t do real damage. Because, between me and you,” he comes at me like a ravenous lion, and I’m stuck under his spell, frozen on the spot, “the past I have no control over, but if Raney hurts because of you ever again, I will end you with my bare hands. And yes, Detective, that is an explicit and valid threat on your life. I’ll repeat it for a court room full of witnesses too. Your time with Raney is finished, and by the time we leave this town, the bullshit claim you have on her will be terminated one way or the other. Which is, for the record, my preferred outcome.”
She steps up, and all these reactions and responses that have been ingrained in me are slowly coming trickling back into my subconscious, but it’s like I don’t matter. None of it matters. This was all for her, and even though I’m standing in front of her, it’s like she can’t even see me.
“Koz, let’s go. We’re done here.” Her hand catches his elbow, and Siderno becomes a different version of himself. Without hesitation, I know he’s still damn near feral, I can feel his emotions like pin pricks over my skin, but his focus too has shifted. To her and only her. In a lot of ways, he mimics her nonchalance, her gut-wrenching indifference, making me feel as relevant as a nipple on a skateboard.
His driver walks off without being told they can leave; the car is driving away.
I should be telling Cap about this. I should be writing every part of this interaction down, recording every word we exchange so someone other than me can review it. Because let’s be serious, I can’t focus on anything but seeing Raney again. And that’s so fucking hard to comprehend—she looks like a different person, but she feels like the same girl I fell head over heels in love with. Fuck.
The only thing I can do is dig through my vest and pull out my phone. It’s ringing again, but I was already going to call him.
“Hey, babe. How did it go? I’ve been so fucking nervous for you all day. I’m so proud of you. Talon? Babe? Are you there?”
Hayes.
His voice is like superglue, binding me back together. He’s been my reason besides Raney, for living. And once again, he guides me back from the epic shit show that just occurred in front of me. Back to him, back to me.
I rub my chest. I’m fucking shaking and sweaty all over. And I have to clear my throat a couple of times so he can hear me. “Hayes… she’s back.”
ChapterTen
RANEY
My eyes are squeezed shut. I’m trying to get rid of the image of seeing Talon. I’m trying to exhale the ghosts from yesterday from my goddamn lungs.
“The tabs aren’t working,” I say, falling against Koz’s chest.
“They are, micina. It’s the shock.” He kisses the top of my head, rocking us against the movement of the car, and it’s soothing. Although, so is being with Koz.
