“That’s not the point,” Spike snaps. “I need him to confirm how many are hiding in the Valley.”
“None,” the man blurts out, eyes wide with desperate hope. “You kill the others. We are all that is left. Everyone else go back to Mexico.Por favor… I am sorry. I do nothing. I was just sent here with the rest.”
“I believe him,” Maverick says, leaning against the motel wall.
Sighing, I crouch until I’m nose to nose with the little fucker.
“When you wake up,” I say quietly, “you run back home and warn anyone else who thinks they can squat in our town that they’ll fucking meet their end before the first day’s over.”
“When I wake?” the man asks, confused.
I smile as I straighten, motioning for him to stand too.
“Yes,” I say once we’re both on our feet. “When you wake.”
Then I punch him hard enough that I’m certain his jaw shatters.
Poor fucker.
“I give up,” Spike mutters, tossing his hands in the air.
I shrug and turn, following Spike and Maverick out of the motel.
“You need a way to burn off some of that pent-up energy,” Maverick says as we reach our bikes. “I’m heading to the Black Mirage tonight with Foster and Crusher. You should come.”
The Black Mirage is a bar that opened about a year ago, and it’s been a hit since opening night. I’ve even been there a few times myself.
The idea of finding a woman for the night…something fast, physical, and empty…sounds like exactly what I need.
A flash of blue eyes and blonde hair pushes into my mind.
I kill the image before it can fully form.
No way in hell I’m walking down that road. No matter how badly I fucking want to.
Not gonna risk ruining that pretty girl with my rough hands and bad attitude.
“Tonight’s ladies’ night,” Maverick adds. “Music’ll be loud, and the women plentiful.”
“Meet you there,” I say, swinging a leg over my hog and turning toward the compound.
I need to get home and… what? Fucking nap?
The thought makes my jaw tighten.
“Actually,” I call out, turning my bike in the opposite direction. “I’ll head there now.”
By the time I reach the Black Mirage, it’s already in full swing.
I step inside, order a beer, and take a seat. It doesn’t take long for women to start brushing against me, cleavage pressed close, smiles practiced and inviting.
I’m not stupid. I know my size alone draws attention. And I’m not bad-looking either. Finding a willing woman has never been the problem.
I just don’t fucking want to.
There’s only one woman my heart wants beneath me, and I’ve pushed her so far away that I barely see her anymore.
And the worst part?
