But I stood by my reasoning.
Even if it had been the most uncomfortable walk I’d ever taken in my whole damn life.
I was just glad my cock got the point that nothing was going to happen by the time I got back to the clubhouse.
The guys hadn’t been suspicious about walking her home. Even on a normal night. But especially when there was a predator loose in the town that no one had been able to track down yet.
And it wasn’t just us looking.
It was the Murphy brothers too.
And while the Novikoffs, Czar, and Erion were all known for minding their own business, we all figured they would toss us a tip if they came across the asshole.
Then, well, someone would handle it.
Likely Crow and his bloodthirsty ways.
Shady Valley would be all the better for it.
Maybe that meant my morals were skewed.
But after fighting and killing in wars that felt like dick-measuring contests with human lives paying the price for inferiority complexes, I figured killing for the greater good made a lot more sense.
So I felt nothing for the idea of a rapist with a rap sheet as long as my arm dying for his crimes. Just like I’d feel nothing for Roach and his club of scumbags getting what was coming to them too.
Though, yeah, there was a part of me that was conflicted. But only because with Roach and his guys working overtime to fertilize the land around the clubhouse, Dylan was free to go back to her old life. Which was far, far away from Shady Valley.
I tucked those worries away for another time.
Because I had time.
So I would show her she felt the same spark I did.
To foster it.
And, maybe, convince her that it might be something worth holding onto.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dylan
“You should do the last leg with Saint and Syn,” I suggested. Like I’d suggested on the last two stops we made on the way from Shady Valley to the hotel we would be staying at.
Because for some godforsaken reason, Colter insisted on riding in the damn moving truck with Sugar and me.
Actually, no, he’d insisted on driving himself.
I’d put up a halfhearted argument to that. I actually didn’t love driving. I liked riding my bike. Cars and trucks? Not so much.
It turned out I was much more suited to being a passenger princess than I could have realized. I got to fiddle with the radio. Pet Sugar. Eat snacks. Even nod off here and there.
Colter was even a good driver, so I didn’t need to pay attention and yell at him for following too closely or cutting people off.
The back of the truck was loaded down with not only my bike now, but the ones for the guys. And a few essentials for Sugar and me.
I’d been convinced to leave most of my stuff at the motel, everyone assuring me that Jack would make sure it was safe without me.
And I guess the club had paid it up for the next week.
