First Chad, turning out to be an abusive asshole. Then Brandon, leaving with Vera.
I thought they were bad, but Declan’s worse. He’s an assholeandhe’s cheating on me.
Or on her, his blond fuckingwife.
I don’t get it, I really don’t. Why isn’t he living there? Are they separated or something? Then why bring her a gift? They looked friendly enough, hugging and laughing.
Clean shirts, a couple of pairs of jeans, my toiletries. A wad of cash. That’s all I need, and it gets shoved in a backpack I can wear while I ride. In and out in under ten minutes.
I sit on my bike, engine running, lid balanced on the tank and my phone in hand, staring at mycontacts, looking for options. I’m sure as hell not going to Utah again, and I don’t want to see Cammy right now. She’ll draw too much out of me, then tell Kurt.
Why is that a problem?
Because I can’t help thinking that Declan has more to hide,beyonda wife and a child.
What other reason is there to pretend to be someone he’s not?
We’re not a book club or a bridge society. We’re acrew. We rob banks and jewelry stores. Stuff we can spend years in prison for. We can’t afford someone in our midst who isn’t who they say they are.
And Declan is… not who I thought he was.
What would Kurt do, if he knew? He’s not one to take risks, not where the crew is involved. If he had reason to think Declan couldn’t be trusted? It doesn’t bear thinking about.
“Do you trust him? On a job, would you know he had your back?”
At least now my answer is clear. No, I don’t trust Declan one little bit.
Except maybe, on a job. So he can pay for his family.
I hit Tasha’s number. It rings three times before she answers.
“Hey Raven. ’Sup?” She always sounds so bubbly.
“Hey. Um… are you around?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“To be honest… a friendly face… and a stretch of floor to sleep on.”
“Woah. Uh… you need ice cream? I’m just putting a grocery order in and… ice cream?”
“Yeah.” I smile, despite the tears prickling my eyes. “I need ice cream.”
“Are you coming now? Or whenever. Door’s open. Figuratively.”
“About twenty minutes?”
“Perfect. I’ll put the kettle on.”
“And… can I use your garage? For my bike?” I don’t want to leave a thirty-thousand dollar Ducati on the street without a solid ground anchor.
“Of course you can. I’ll meet you down there when you arrive.”
“Thanks, babe.” She’s good people.
Her apartment is in Van Nuys, farther out of the city, and I ride without thinking about it, my thoughts circling around and around.
Why is Declan living alone? What does he want from me? Why did he use language like I’m his if he already has someone?
