Truth be told, I was surprised she hadn’t pissed herself yet. It was why I’d covered the bed with a plastic sheet in the first place. Woman must have had a bladder made of steel.
“Please! Please don’t make me pee myself!”
I chuckled and turned the volume back down before flipping my puzzle book over and resetting my timer.
I lit a cigarette, letting it balance between my lips as I filled in square after square, my pencil moving over the puzzle and picking up speed as my brain ran the numbers.
“Five, seven, seven, seven, six,” I mumbled, my gaze roving over the page and working out the sequence of numbers as quickly as I could. I pressed too hard on the page and the lead snapped off completely. “Fuck!” I yelled, throwing the pencil and hitting the stop button on my timer.
I’d only had three numbers left and I would have beaten my previous time.
A muffled scream sounded down the hallway, louder than before, and my gaze flicked to the screen, watching her thrash on the bed. I stubbed out my cigarette in the overflowing ashtray and pressed a finger to her image in the screen.
I’d found her Achilles heel and I had no intention of backing down now. I stroked her image and turned my stereo on, hitting play on the next song in line. Stealth filtered through the tinny speakers and I lit another cigarette and picked up my bottle of Jack and took a swig of it before humming along to the song.
I closed my eyes and my foot tapped along with the song. I took another swig of the Jack and leaned back in my chair, letting the cigarette dangle from my lips as I stared up at the ceiling, wondering about how different my life would have been if it weren’t for the Devil’s Highwaymen.
The club had saved my fuckin’ life, and I was under no illusion I wouldn’t either be in the ground or behind bars if it weren’t for them. For Hardy and Rider taking a chance on me. For my brothers accepting every dark part of me. Fuckin’ loved this club.
My whole life I’d been alone barring one friend—Battle.
Never had a real family, but this club was as good as any family out there. Better.
We bled for each other.
We loved for each other.
And if need be, we killed for each other.
I once read a sign that said friends were the family we got to choose. And it was right. Every word of it. The men in the club were my friends, my family, my everything. And I’d choose them over anyone and anything else.
Still, like with any family, you had to know when someone was making a real bad decision. I’d had a feeling burning in my gut for weeks that Hardy was making some of those bad decisions. For himself, and for the club. Gauge’s admission that Hardy might not be entirely trustworthy at the moment set my nerves on edge, but at least I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the change in the man.
Twenty minutes later and Penny’s room had gone silent. I glanced up at the screen, seeing the dark patch surrounding her and her face turned away from the camera in shame.
A dark smile crawled up my face as I pulled up the mask from around my neck. I turned my music down and walked slowly toward her room, unlocked the door, and let it swing wide open until it hit the wall and slowly moved back. I caught it with my hand, my dark gaze moving over her prone figure. She lay still on the bed, the unmistakable scent of piss heavy in the air.
“Seriously, darlin’, you should have told me you needed the bathroom and I woulda taken you.” I gripped the top of the doorframe, feeling my muscles flex as I stared at her, waiting for a reaction from the feisty little bitch, but she didn’t move. I waited exactly sixty seconds before tutting. “All right, well, if you ain’t got nothin’ to say to me, I might as well leave.”
“Wait!” she called as I turned around.
I stared out into the empty hallway and forced myself not to smile as I turned back around to face her. I set my cold stare on her and waited. She swallowed, her nostrils flaring as she attempted to stare me down. Goddamn but this woman was strong-willed enough to still have some fight left in her. Fuckin’ loved a challenge, and this woman was just that.
She was still glaring at me, all fire and hate in her gaze. It was a damn good look on her.
“A man don’t take too kindly to that kind of stare,” I said darkly. “It normally means one of two things.”
I waited, enjoying the way her mouth pinched in as she tried to control her temper. “What two things?” she finally asked, her voice sullen.
I took a step into the room, moving closer to her. “That she either wants to fuck him or kill him.” I waited, desire pulsing through my veins when she lifted her chin in defiance and snorted on a laugh. “So which one is it?”
“What?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“You wanna fuck me or kill me?” I reached behind my ear and pulled out my joint and then lifted my mask just high enough so I could light it. I took a deep breath, inhaling the weed into my lungs while I let my words stew in her mind, before exhaling and stalking around the side of the bed toward her. “Because, they each have very different outcomes, so choose wisely.”
Her face pinched in anger. “Let’s just say you’re not my type.”
“I’m everyone’s type,” I replied arrogantly, the smell of her piss rising up to meet me.
