Page 71 of Coveted By Cupid

“Should we make things interesting, Chase?” Cipher grins, his eyes never leaving his laptop. “First to identify the scout wins a bottle of Jack.”

Chase makes a sour face. “It’s bourbon or nothing.”

“Deal.” The two hackers get to work, their excessive tapping echoing around the stone walls.

“Anything else?” I ask Artem.

“No,” Artem pants, possibly realizing his end is near. “Please, no torture. If I am to die, just kill me.”

I get right in his face, giving him no other place to look but at me. “Did you give the people you abducted a choice?”

He sobs, knowing he has no defense or way out.

“That’s what I thought.” My hand clamps down on the handle.

Artem’s screams fill the room, echoing off the stone walls as he slowly and painfully bleeds out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

VANESSA

I’m fairly certain Cupid gave me his property patch to distract me from whatever the hell he’s doing right now.

Club business, he calls it. I call it unlawful shit.

I shouldn’t care that the man who stalked me, broke into my apartment, fucked me raw within hours of knowing me, heckled Boden, did lord knows what to the men who tried to abduct me, moved me into his apartment while I was unconscious, and now has claimed me as his ole lady without discussing it with me first. If anything, I should hope he gets caught by the authorities, allowing me to return to the boring life I had before meeting him, the one where all I had to worry about was fulfilling my academic requirements.

But here I am worried sick about a dangerous man doing dangerous things that could get him hurt or into serious legal trouble.

The longer time marches on, the more old insecurities creep in. What if “club business” is bro-code for meeting other women?

Bikers have a bit of a negative reputation, especially the nefarious ones. If they’re okay with doing bad things, it’s not a farfetched assumption to assume they might be fine doing immoral things, too. And in my experience, guys are unfaithful.

Is it fair for me to make such an egregious assumption?

Probably. I mean, yes, I know it’s wrong of me.

I need to stop going down this thought path. Cupid has done nothing for me to believe he would be unfaithful. I can’t punish him for the crimes of my past partners.

He said the club business he was handling with Oaks was unpleasant. I need to trust him on this.

Nervous, I gnaw away the skin around my fingernails, glancing at the clock on the wall every few minutes while Marlene kicks her feet with giddiness at whatever romantic reality drama she put on my laptop. With Cupid not owning a television, we had to make do with pulling up a video streaming service on my computer and placing it on the coffee table between us. The show is more for Marlene’s benefit since I’m supposed to reduce screen time while I recover from my concussion. Still, I could listen to the drama if I wasn’t preoccupied with thoughts of Cupid.

“Can you believe the nerve of that guy,” Marlene says, waving her hand at the show. “Says he doesn’t like tattoos on women, and yet he’s covered in them. Hypocritical much?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, not bothering to look at the screen as my knee bounces erratically. “Totally hypocritical.”

Marlene sighs, leaning over to pause the show. She sits back against the cushions, sympathy in her eyes as she looks at me. “He’s okay, you know? The crew is always in control when handling club matters.”

“Sure,” I mutter, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. As much as I want to be as confident as Marlene, I worry.

She lays a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “You don’t need to worry about your ole man.”

“I’m not worried about Cupid,” I lie, unable to meet her eyes.

“At least you can admit he’s your ole man,” she says with a chuckle.

Scoffing, I say, “I never said he was.”