Page 51 of Property of Kevlar

Both of their gazes darted to it.

Their sister’s name flashed on the screen.

Kevlar pressed the button to answer the call and put it on speaker while he drove.

“What the actual fuck?” she screeched.

“Hi, Remi. Wonderful to hear from you. How is your day going?” Kevlar asked as if he wasn’t aware of the reason for her call.

“Asshole, where is the Silverado you stole?”

“Borrowed,” he corrected.

“Bring it back.”

“On my way.”

The screen flashed as the call ended. He doubted Remi had heard his response.

“She sounds pissed,” Kid said.

Kevlar shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

This shouldn’t be new to Remi. When their dad ran the body shop, the Roughneck Riders were constantly borrowing cars to do shit. Why wouldn’t they? The tags couldn’t be traced to them. The arrangement was perfect. If the Dixie guys weren’t using her business this way, they were missing an opportunity.

Kevlar had no intention of running his club how his father had, but Snoopy hadn’t been a complete moron. Some of his actions made sense. Kevlar would take the good and ditch the bad. He’d learn from his dad’s fuckups. Jameson was a far better mentor and president, which was why he still had a much larger club than the Roughneck Riders would ever have dreamed of.

28

Kelsey

There was no one more optimistic about love than a bride on her wedding day. Juggling four cell phones, grinning ear to ear, Kelsey watched a series of women strike poses as she took pictures of them. The glorious and unmovable updo Carrie styled for her or the immaculate dewy glam makeup Kelsey used for the bride could be the source of her glow, but it didn’t matter. Her soon-to-be husband was a lucky man.

This bridal party was a hoot. They arrived with a jug of orange juice and several bottles of champagne. These ladies were ready to party. Well, not yet. They still had to get dressed. Though Kelsey could admit that even in their fluffy pajamas, they looked fabulous. Not walk-down-the-aisle ready, but damn near close.

When Kelsey got married, she hoped to be surrounded by such a jovial group of people.

Offering congratulations, Kelsey and Carrie walked the women toward the door. The bills were paid, and their rides had shown up. The next leg of their journey had begun. After a final wave, the door of the salon closed, and Kelsey locked it.

“Not bad for a Sunday morning,” she commented.

Carrie nodded as she arranged the bills in her hand. “I love weddings.”

Kelsey went over to her station and began packing. Their location wasn’t open on Sundays, except for special occasions. Sunday weddings weren’t popular, but when they happened, giving the women the entire salon to themselves was nice.

“Do you think we’ll ever get married?” Carrie asked wistfully as she tended to her station.

Kelsey scoffed. “Not anytime soon.”

Her friend frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, I’m not seeing anyone,” Kelsey replied.

Fucking a biker on several occasions rarely led to a white dress and a chapel. Especially the ones who wore those one percent diamonds. They were bad news.

“And you’re not exactly serious with anyone.” The words left Kelsey’s lips before she could second-guess them. She winced immediately.

“What?” Carrie sounded as if Kelsey had run over her puppy. “Why would you say that?”