I grab my heart. “Bitch! That hurt because you know I haven’t. I’m going out for breakfast so maybe I’ll just pick up a sponge slab and smuggle it in.”
“You should, actually. Your baking skills are absurdly bad,” Heidi deadpans.
I scoff. “And yours are any better?”
“Tristan, all jokes aside I really think you should just call in sick instead of attempting the exam.” Raney smirks and starts laughing as I dip my middle finger in my coffee before sucking it clean, watching her the whole time.
“Who are you having breakfast with?” Heidi asks over Raney’s continuing giggling.
“Not you. I’ll be back before class. Okay, bye,” I snark, making a dash to my bedroom at the same time before either of them can ask again.
I take it as a win and a sign of my day improving when the both of them are in the shower getting ready when I sneak out. Dropping an armful of clothes and shoes on Raney’s bed for her to take with her home, I shoot off a group message offering to bring back iced lattes before I send off a text to King, who’s been strangely quiet.
The traffic is barely existent as I make my way through Lower Westside. I even get to park right out the front of Tommy Booths. A quick scout of the tables and it’s easy to see Maverick’s not here yet, but I am early. I grab one of the small booths and the server follows almost immediately with water and a menu.
Tommy Booths has the best cold-pressed juices and keto menu options and I waste the next twenty minutes alternating between watching his fight videos and trying to figure out the perfect breakfast combination until it’s awkwardly obvious I’ve been stood up.
Being stood up by Maverick stings like a fucking bitch. On top of being dumped by Tyson, my ten-minute pack mate, add on King still not getting back to me, it’s hardly a surprise that I place a calorie laden order from the bakery next door before sitting in my car to have a little cry.
Chapter
Twenty
MAVERICK
The past few days have been a regular shit show full of nothing but Rex spiralling. Everyone who’s anyone with any association to the Death Riders has been called back to the compound, forced to be a part of Rex’s plans.
Aggression and stupidity scent the air. I would have thought it would be a no-brainer to have everyone with razor sharp mental clarity as they talk strategy, but Rex has never been the smartest tool in the shed, just the loudest.
It’s gotten to the stage where his voice physically grates against my nerves which is a dangerous place to be right now considering he and all his hundreds of followers are skating on the edge of losing control. The promise of violence hangs heavy in the air, ready and waiting to explode with the smallest provocations.
Everyone notices it too. Some of the club members are like moths to the flame wanting to be with Rex when he finally does erupt, while the smarter people try not to draw any unnecessary attention. But it’s impossible to escape and with every hour that passes, we all witness Rex being consumed by rage. It started the second we got back after hunting The Fallen, when he discovered the girls were missing.
Sallyanne was replaced in a very public way. Rex has been fucking the club sluts in full view of everyone. It’s disgusting to have to be around, but anyone caught trying to leave is dragged back and given a front row seat. Thankfully though, he’s more hung up on a recent call to keep playing up to the crowd. Sadly, for me though, it means having to be too close to the action.
“Get your shit together,” he snarls, jabbing the lit doobie in Steel’s face, the jeers from his lieutenants sound up as Steel recoils. “You and me, pretty boy, ride out in a bit.”
“For?” Steel asks, his eyes hard and full of hatred.
Rex huffs an unimpressed laugh, taking a step closer and jabbing his finger towards Steel. “You need a reason?”
“Nah, just want to know if I need to wear my monkey suit.” Steel shrugs.
And it’s a defining moment for our relationship because, no shit, I think I come up with nearly ten ways to choke him out just to shut him up. Steel’s being as antsy as Rex is. I know it’s because he’s trying to come up with something else for Rex to focus on besides the girls, but I’d prefer to love on my best-friend the the way he is, alive.
“You need me too, Rex?” I offer, attempting to defuse the situation.
“Was I talking to you?” he says without dragging his hate glazed eyes away from his son.
I mutter a half assed apology, but no one acknowledges it. Rex starts talking again.
“A rich daddy’s boy wants a hand with a job. Already couriered me a nice fat stack of bills too.”
“Yeah?” Steel shrugs, knowing his indifference will have Rex spilling secrets.
“Apparently he’s already got an easy job for us while he teaches some bitch a lesson.”
Steel nods his head before going to walk off. “What time we leave then?”
