“I told you to stay up here, dammit, you’re so stubborn!” He stalks out again, and I hear what sounds like slamming cabinet doors.
“Me!?” I shout towards the empty doorway. “You’re the definition of stubborn! I told you I was fine!” I sit up and put my foot on my lap, peering at my toe.
When he reemerges, walking into my bedroom, he’s carrying a first aid kit.
“You have a first aid kit here, too?” I start to giggle. It’s cute seeing the tall 6’6 biker, covered in tattoos, holding the small red box in his hand. “It’s very Boy Scout.”
He rolls his eyes and walks to me and puts my foot on his lap. I lean forward as he opens the case and takes out an alcohol pad. It reminds me of the day he stitched up my neck. I touch the scar absently, and he pauses, watching me. Something flashes in his eyes when my fingers trace the raised skin. He opens an alcohol pad with his teeth and picks up a tweezer. I hiss when he gets near my toe.
“I haven’t touched you yet, Countess.”
“I was anticipating,” I mumble, as he carefully maneuvers the tweezers and quickly pulls out the glass. There’s immediate relief. When he lifts my toe to his mouth and closes his lips over my skin, I stutter, “W-what…” The inside of his mouth is hot, and it’s sexy as fuck. He watches me as he sucks, cleaning the leftover blood. I lick my lips as he lowers my foot and cleans it with the alcohol pad, before fishing out a bandaid and wrapping it around my big toe. “Stay here.”
“No, Stone. I want to know what’s going on.”
Stone drags me up and grips my hair, holding a chunk. “Camryn, don’t piss me off right now.”
“Stone, don’t piss me off!” I rebut, pushing at his chest. The strain on my scalp shouldn’t make my pussy wet. I want to be mad at his boldness. He grits his teeth, and I like that he’s annoyed.Join the club, asshole.
He takes his other hand and holds my chin, squeezing slightly, “Don’t push me on this. I’ll allow your disobedience when my cock is in your mouth, ass or pussy, but not with this. Do you understand? It’s not safe. Stay here.”
He nips my lips, and the sting makes me tremble. His eyes focus on the small bite. “Fucking, brat.” Then he gets up and leaves. I fall back on my bed, watching him leave and head downstairs.
I didn’t listen.
The worry about my gallery is eating at me. As much as his high-handedness can be a turn on, but not with this, not with my place. My father did too much of that to last me a lifetime.
“They hit the club too.” I listen, eavesdropping outside the back door to the tattoo shop.
After finishing with my insurance company, I still felt numb about what had happened, needing to focus on what I had to do. I’ll have to get the window fixed in the next few days. How the hell am I going to accomplish it? I have no clue. Not to mention the spray paint on the floors and walls needs to be fixed. I need to buy lumber to board up the front, and new locks are a must.
“Fuck.”
Stone’s virulent curse brings me back to trying to figure out what the hell happened tonight. Was it a robber? Was it revenge? Maybe it was Reed? My father’s business enemies. I have no clue.
Four dead. Three injured. The clubhouse suffered damage. Scout says there are a few other injuries, but they’ll live. Either way, we have to figure out how they got past the gate.”
“We have someone inside,” Onyx says.
“I’d say so,” Riggs agrees.
What are they talking about? What club? I know he’s part of a motorcycle club, but this feels like more than a club of men who ride. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt like there is something bigger happening.
“It was a diversion. The whole fucking thing was a diversion.”
“Hundred percent. They planned this. They made you believe their numbers were in the city.”
“What’s does Hadrian say?”
“Blames us. Claiming it’s someone from the original gang.”
“Of course he is.” Onyx growls.
“They carved our names in their chest.”
I freeze hearing it. Literally carved? The savagery of it blows my mind.
“What did the message say?”
