Belladonna Brewstares back at me like the entire building is mocking my pain. I feel as if it’s laughing in my face every time the front door doesn’t open.
I keep telling myself I’ll stop. That I’ll leave. That it’s wrong — stalking her like this, creeping inside her space. But even when I pull away for an hour or two, I always end up right back here. Drawn in by a longing that I can’t cut loose.
I haven’t seen her. Not once. She hasn’t stepped foot outside, not even to come down to the shop.
It’s late now, the kind of late when only bad decisions and regret keep people awake. I know Tank’s due soon. He’s off Temperance duty tonight. Hellbat was the one watching Ria today.
Bones made it clear right from the start — no prospects watching the women. He doesn’t want to take any chances. So it’s all ranked brothers on rotation, and I’m the only one off the roster. Clearly a mercy call. My head’s not in the game, and everyone knows it.
“Want one?” Hellbat asks, stepping up beside me with a protein bar, shaking it in my face.
I don’t even turn my head. “No.”
He sighs, long and theatrical. “Dude, you’re fucked. Just take the L and move on already. What’s the point of freezing your balls off every night for nothing?”
That gets my attention. I turn and pin him with a glare. “I don’t run from my shit like a bat outta hell,Hellbat.”
His brow lifts, unbothered. “Oh, cute. Wordplay. Taking a dig at me for running from my Ol’ Lady when she was shooting at my ass? And here I thought you were the brooding, poetic type.” He takes a bite from the bar and chews like he’s got all the time in the world. “You might not run from your messes now, but you sure sprinted from your past. That counts.”
The words feel like a slap.
I let out a breath. “You’re right. That was a dick move. Forget it.”
He nods, satisfied, making my fists itch. “If you’re serious about chasing her, though, you need a new plan. This stalker routine? Not working. Didn’t work for Bones, either. You should be taking notes instead of wasting time here.”
He keeps talking, his voice scratching at the insides of my skull. “Prez still isn’t getting anywhere with his girl either, is he?”
I clench my jaw as he turns to fully face me, eyes practically sparkling with nosiness. “What’s the real story with you and this chick, anyway? I heard whispers she sent you to the slammer, but that can’t be the full picture. Half the club looked ready to faint when you brought her to the clubhouse. And the other half looked like they were about to pull a gun.”
“Eat your protein, Hellbat,” I mutter.
He snorts, but thankfully shuts up. A few minutes later, Tank pulls in beside me, his bike rumbling low.
Hellbat suddenly perks up like he’s about to be dismissed from detention. “Guess that’s my cue to bounce. One day, you’ll spill the tea. I’m dying to hear it.” He flashes a smile. Too damn cheerful for a guy whose road name sounds like a cartoon villain.
He waves at us both and peels off down the street without a care in the fucking world.
Tank cuts the engine, then hops off. “Spending the night again?”
I glance up at the sky, then at the front of the shop. There are no lights or movement, just silence and cold and her absence.
“Maybe.”
He nods. Says nothing.
Like clockwork, Ria swings the door open a minute later, all curls and attitude. She doesn’t even speak — just jerks her chin and waves him inside like all the other nights.
Tank doesn't hesitate. The big bastard moves quickly, disappearing through the door in a flash.
I shake my head, already seeing his future.
Early morning, and I’m still glued to the same fucking spot.
Tank took off about an hour ago — something about running late for I don’t know what. Asked me to wait until Fang shows up to take over watch duty. I just nodded. Like I’m going anywhere. Like I can.
I don’t even register the cold anymore. What I do register, though, is the door creaking open. My spine straightens on instinct.
It’s Ria. But she’s alone.
