I lightly brush back the strand of hair that has fallen in her face and trail my fingertips along her cheek. She bites her lip in response, and I tug it free with my thumb. “That's a good girl. If you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”
Her eyes meet mine and widen. “I don’t understand.”
“You didn’t tell me what awaited you at home.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not important.”
I trail my hand down to her throat and place it firmly on her skin. “I asked you a question, and I want an answer.” I don’t know why I do. But I won’t let her go until she tells me.
She looks away, and I press my thumb against her chin to force her to look at me. “It can’t be worse than what you just went through.” I raise my brow.
She scrunches her nose. “I’d rather go through that again than go back home later than I am supposed to and deal with my husband.”
I didn’t realize she had a husband. She has no ring on her finger. “What is your husband going to do to you? Hit you because you came home late?” Fucking men who beat their women are not men to begin with.
She scoffs. “I wish. He uses his words more than anything.” She looks down and lets out a breath. “Listen, whatever you’regoing to do, can we just get it over with so I can return to my own hell?”
I push off her neck and take a step back. “Thank you for telling me your secret. Now we can both hold onto what we know. You are free to go.”
She stares at me silently for just a moment before scrambling into the driver’s seat. Then she rolls down the window and holds her hand out for her keys, which are still pinched between my fingers. “What is your name?” she asks, her brow raised in curiosity.
I place her keys in her palm, but I grab her hand before she pulls her arm back in the car. “Tell me yours first, and then I will tell you mine.”
She looks back at her daughter in the back seat before turning back toward me with her lip between her teeth. “Blake,” she whispers.
I release her hand and give her a nod. “You don’t need to know my name, sweetheart,” I grumble. There is no harm in telling her my name; it's not like I am ever going to see her again. But the scowl she is giving me now makes withholding that information so much more worth it. She is cute when she is angry.
She starts her car and slowly backs it out onto the main road.
I stand, watching her car pull off into the roadway, and I wave at the small child in the back seat as she drives down the road.
I don’t know what it was about that black-haired, emo chick with her Converse shoes and gaged earrings. But I had to stop myself from wrapping her curved body around mine and showing her what a real man is capable of, since her husband doesn’t seem to be up for the job.
Once her car is out of sight, I walk down the dirt road toward a supposedly abandoned house in the woods. It is not actually abandoned, though. It is the home I was heading back to before running into that damn car.
The look on Blake’s face when she saw me slumped over on the side of the road in pain was priceless. I almost felt bad for how I was playing her. But I had to do what I had to do to get away from the scene with my drugs. If I were to get caught for what I was carrying, I would most likely die in prison once the Black Widows got ahold of me. I have too much shit left to do on this earth to lose my life now. I may be old as fuck at the ripe age of 42, but that doesn’t mean I am ready to die.
My safe house comes into view but instead of letting out a sigh of relief, I am on edge when I realize that the kitchen light is on inside. Not many people know about this safe house. The ones that do wouldn’t be all the way out here in Bryan, Oklahoma, at this time of day.
As I walk closer to the building, I pull my gun from my waistband and creep onto the back porch. I have a hide-a-key placed at the back door. Before I place the key into the lock, there is a crash from inside. I use this opportunity to unlock the door and slip in.
I creep around the corner to the kitchen as quietly as possible with my gun raised in front of me. Once I turn the corner, I am met with a man I am most definitely not expecting to see. I lower my weapon, place it back into my pants, and lean against the wall. “Who the hell let you in here?” I grumble, and it causes Viper to stand up quickly from where he has picked up some broken glass.
“God damn! You scared the shit out of me.” He runs his hand through his hair.
“That still doesn’t answer my question.” I step into the kitchen and grab an empty cup from the cupboard.
He chuckles. “Well, I let myself in, and before you ask, I am here because Xavier sent me.”
I roll my eyes. “Why? I’m due back at the club tomorrow morning. It’s not like I’m late.”
Viper finishes up picking the shards off the floor and takes a seat on the couch in the living room. “No, you’re not. But he figured you would stop here on your way through.” He raises his brow. “Why didn’t I hear your bike when you pulled up?”
I shrug. “Because I walked, I didn’t ride.”
He tilts his head. “Where is your bike?”
I groan. “On the side of the road some miles back. I got into a fucking accident.”
