Page 34 of Grave Stone

“Sorry,” Whitney said.

“You showed up with a dead man’s hairy mole. I’m not apologizing for my reaction,” Stevie said.

“Excuse her. She’s tired,” Whitney said. “Back to the letter. It said, please accept these. What else did they send?”

“Nate’s earring and earlobe.”

“Can we see it?” Stevie asked.

I shook my head. “Not right now. I left it at the clubhouse with the original letter in case shit went sideways.”

“Why did you say it like that? Not right now?” Stevie asked.

“Since we don’t know who sent the letter, you three need to come to the clubhouse with us until we figure it out,” Sin said.

“Why the fuck would we do that?” Stevie asked.

“Because no one outside of the club and the three of you should know about what happened with Nate and Tate. Since it wasn’t any of us who killed them to clear Whitney’s name, someone else knows what’s going on. Which means Whitney isn’t safe, and neither are you and Hadley because of your close association with her.”

“For how long?” Whitney asked shakily.

“As long as it takes,” I told her.

“We don’t need you to protect us,” Stevie said.

“Yeah, I can see why you would think that,” Sin said. “It looks like your daddies taught you a thing or two, but this is the real world.”

I wasn’t sure which part did it, but something he said pissed Stevie off. She stiffened and slowly turned to face him. “We don’t have daddies. Whitney’s was never around, and ours were murdered. Do you have any more preconceived sexist macho bullshit you’d like to spew? Because I’d really, really like to sew your balls to your taint this evening.”

To my surprise, Sin raised his hands in a placating manner. “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say.”

Stevie blinked, seemingly taken aback by his words.

“What is happening?” Whitney whispered.

Stevie sighed. “It looks like we’re going to the Grave Prowlers clubhouse because Glenn isn’t finished fucking you yet.”

Whitney made a gagging noise. “Never say it like that again.”

I had to agree.

“Y’all are gonna have to talk louder,” Hadley yelled from the balcony. “The batteries in my long-range mic are dying.”

“We’ve gotta pack again,” Whitney yelled.

“We’re leaving?”

“Yeah, we’re going with them.”

“Hot damn!” Hadley said, then quickly changed her tone. “I mean, oh no. How inconvenient.”

“Hold on,” Stevie said. “We can’t just up and go to your clubhouse for however long. We have jobs and lives that we can’t abandon. Hadley and I have to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we have jobs and lives, too,” I said. “This isn’t our first rodeo. We can get you to work and keep you safe while you’re there.”

“You’re going to send a biker bodyguard to hang out at the courthouse with me?”

My eyes narrowed. “The courthouse?”