Gilda pinches the bridge of her nose. “The Hellcats are a motorcycle gang who run this part of Belmont, and they are no fuckin’ joke, baby. You’re not from around here, are you?”
I don’t want to bring up the fact that Iam,in fact, from Belmont, born and raised, but know nothing about the Patch other than that my father would build a barbed-wire fence around it if he could. “I’m kind of new to the area.”
“Well, get familiar with the Kays real fast, because if you get on their bad side, you’re in deep shit. They’re good to us, help out the good ones in the community, but if you do wrong in this neighborhood or get on their bad sides…” She whistles while shaking her head.
He was in a motorcycle gang?
He’s actually dangerous?
Why oh why does that make this all even hotter?
Gilda’s rough around the edges and has a bawdy sense of humor, so I feel comfortable leaning closer and whispering, “I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my life.”
That little statement is met with a wicked chuckle. “You’ve got a thing for the bad boys? Then you’ll fit right in. All the girls in the Patch want a piece of the Kays. A lot of boys, too, and I hear they don’t really discriminate, if you know what I mean.”
Jesus, that makes him even hotter!
A cold chill washes over me, but it doesn’t feel like a warning. The chill makes my skin itch with excitement, and I want more.
I want him.
Maggie walks through the double doors a moment later. “Did I miss anything?”
Gilda and I just look at each other with knowing smirks before we both say, “No.”
Chapter 7
Torren
I watch Felix through the window—the warm glow of the bedside table lamp making his pale skin glow like a sunrise.
I’ve watched him for days—followed his routine.
I drop the binoculars, and they land on my chest, the strap tugging at the back of my neck. The guards are gone, and the house is dark except for the light in his bedroom.
I race across the yard and leap onto the trellis, my arousal growing with each step I take to his bedroom window. Felix’s room is empty, but the bathroom door is slightly ajar. Steam billows out into the bedroom, and I carefully open the window and climb in. I can hear the shower. He’s in there. What will he do when he sees me? Scream? Or will he be happy to see me?
I tread lightly across the floor, my pulse racing. When I reach the bathroom, I can barely see through the steam. It heats my face as I approach the tub. I can’t see anything.
I open the curtains and—
He’s on the floor, the hot water beating down on him, mixing with the blood that flows from his body.No! Who didthis?
I reach down to help him. The blood pools around my hands as I try to lift him—
Holy fuck. Oh God.
I turn the light on my bedside table. I’m in my room. There are beer cans on the floor, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingers.
I passed out.
It was a dream.
God damn, that was awful.
My head spins, and there’s an overwhelming pressure behind my eyes.
That dream…
