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"He deserved to have his dick shot off first," he said, moving closer.
"You didn't!" I gasped.
"Oh, peaches, I sure as fuck did."
I snorted. "Enough with the pet names, Shoot." I bristled. I was nobody's 'peaches' or 'pumpkin'. "So what do we need to talk about?"
"We need to talk about Lex Keith."
My spine straightened. "What about him?"
"See? I like a good vacation, getting away from all the killing and pussy. It's good for the psyche. I don't like being forced into a vacation in some sick fuck's basement with nothin' but dimwitted lackeys to keep me company. So I was pleased as punch that you blew that place up and got me, Break, and Alex out of there. I owe you for that."
"Is that why you're here? To offer me a marker?"
"I'm here because me and Breaker and Alex are down in fucking Mexico and I'd like for us to be able to come back some day. Can't do that with Lex out there looking for us."
"That threat is neutralized," I said carefully.
A slow, appreciative smile grew, making his already handsome face almost unbelievably so. "Look at you. Watch out Beatrix Kiddo, we got a new badass, hot as fuck assassin to inspire a million wet dreams."
"Beatrix Kiddo is fictional."
He nodded at me, looked off in the distance, then pinned me with his deep green eyes. "So you're saying we can come back anytime."
I exhaled. "That depends."
"On?"
"Who is Joshua?" I asked, bringing up the name of the guy with the bone sticking out of his leg who screwed up my plans the night of the bombing.
"Fuck," Shoot said, shaking his head.
"I'll take that as a 'I know him and he's a problem'. Well, I was in the basement to get Lex and he yelled for help. Had his freaking tibia sticking out of his leg."
"Nice."
"Yeah. So I helped him hobble his ass out of there. He can point me out and it is sounding like he could point you out too. I don't think you have anything to worry about with what is left of Lex's enterprise. And while the cops around here are generally inept or crooked, if they decided to lean on him..."
"So you're saying we should enjoy the beach for a while," Shooter asked, smirking again.
"Lots of ladies I'm sure you haven't tapped down there."
"Sold," he smiled and reached out to boop me on the nose. Apparently he was the black skinny jean, creepers, pet name calling, and nose-booping kind of guy. No wonder he got so much tail. "Thanks for the heads-up, sweetheart. If you hear anything worth sharing, let me know, okay?"
"Enjoy your vacation."
Shooter gave me a wicked grin. "Think one of them will say 'ay papi' when I get all up in there?" he asked, smiling wider when I couldn't hold his gaze. I was used to dirty jokes; the men at Hailstorm were as filthy as they could get. But there was something about the way Shoot said things like that when he was looking at you, like he'd know what you sounded like saying that to him when he was 'all up in there'. Yeah, it was disarming.
"Shoot, I think they will say anything you want them to."
He laughed and sent me a wink. "Enjoy your mountain man," he said, turning and taking off where he had come from.
My.
My mountain man.
I stood there dumbly for a long minute, watching Shoot's easy swagger, his words still heavy on my shoulders because I realized he was right; that was how I saw Wolf: as mine. It was ridiculous and unfounded, but that was how I felt. I was staying in his house, voluntarily now. I was sharing his bed. I washed blood off his naked body. I cooked him food and kinda hoped it was at least edible even though I knew I had no culinary skills. I bonded with his dogs. I cleaned up the evidence of multiple crimes.
I guess a part of me decided that meant I could claim ownership.
And the other part of me decided that even if I didn't currently possess it, it was a goal I wanted to work toward.
It was crazy. Who based a relationship off of screwed up pasts and murder?
At that, I felt a hysterical little laugh escape my lips. Who? Yeah, I guess that would be Reign and Summer and Cash and Lo. Hell, it even sounded like Breaker and Alex. None of us had the luxury of a clean life, of nervous first dates and awkward third date kisses, of security and comfort. We all dated and fucked and loved like we lived: hard and fast and dirty, never wasting a second because we were never guaranteed the next one.
So maybe there was a chance for us, beyond all the scars and bloodshed and pain. Maybe there was a way to move on together. I mean... not that I had any idea whether or not Wolf had any interest in that kind of thing. Bikers weren't exactly known for their monogamousness. I didn't blame them. I imagined if I had a dick, I'd want to stick it in a bunch of different club whores too. But if Reign and Cash had settled down, there was hope.
I mean... not that I was hoping...
"Augh. I'm being such a girl," I growled at myself, tucking the gun into the waistband of my jeans and making my way back toward the cabin.
I wasn't good with the girl stuff. There were some women at Hailstorm, but we were definitely outnumbered. And the women that were there were like me and Lo, kinda closed off and private. We chatted. They all bullshitted about sex and men and stuff like normal women do. But we were all very closed-off about our feelings, all of us hiding our own emotional scars. It was a defense mechanism. We all thought we needed to be so hard, stone cold, to be able to compete with the men, to have them take us seriously. I couldn't imagine the wrath of shit I would get if I showed any kind of feminine emotion around them. They would eviscerate me. That was our life. And, up until right then, walking in the woods, I never saw anything wrong with that.
