Taryn squeezed my leg.
I didn’t look at her, but shut my mouth. She was right, there was no point in antagonizing the walking dead.
George stepped back. “We’ll be back shortly. The Prez wants to meet with you again.”
The three stooges shuffled through the door, and I heard the lock slide into place.
I turned my head slightly toward her. “You wanna share with the class just what that mind of yours has come up with?”
“Not yet,” she stood and headed to the bathroom, pausing before she went in. “They’re already sick, as are several others I saw on the way in.”
"Yep," I agreed cheerfully.
Taryn narrowed her eyes, “Do you think they’ve informed thePrezof the things that are going on?”
I grinned. “Not if it would put their ass in jeopardy. I’d bet they’ve been partying in here for a few days, so those three might be the only ones who’ve seen anything strange.”
Her smile was slow and filled with malice.
I felt my dick pulse in my pants.
“Then that’s the key to us getting the hell out of here.” She strolled into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
And for the first time since we’d been dragged in here, I felt something shift. And it seemed strangely like excitement.
We were brought something to eat a little later on.
“For filthy bikers, the food is good,” Taryn mumbled with her mouth full.
“Us filthy bikers like a good meal.” I grinned, not put off by her words in the least.
She laughed, “No insult intended.”
“None taken, Fox.” I winked, “You’re going to love this filthy biker as soon as you let me between those long legs.”
Taryn choked, and I chuckled as I mopped up the last of my meal with a piece of toast.
Suddenly, the lock scraped, and the door swung open hard enough to hit the concrete wall. Big George filled the doorway. Bubba stood behind him, but Red was nowhere to be seen.
That wasn’t good.
“The Prez is waiting,” George motioned for me to step out of the room.
Taryn remained sitting and kept eating. I stood and moved beside her.
“She comes with me,” I growled.
George smiled like he’d been waiting for me to say that. “Nah. I don’t think so.”
Bubba coughed, wet and hard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
I saw a smear of something darker than spit.
Taryn stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. She was calm and collected, almost too much so.
“Beck,” she murmured.
I didn’t take my eyes off the two threats in the room.
