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Weird.
“Anyway,” I said, shaking my head. “We won’t fuck with your friend. But as her friend, maybe you should remind her that poisoning people in public is maybe not the smartest move? And that when she doesn’t succeed the first time, each time after gets more and more dangerous.”
“Yeah, I know. She’s a little too fearless. Especially for this town and its… varied residents,” Nyx agreed, moving away from the wall. “You know it’s kind of fucked up when the relatively good guys are the actual organized crime families,” she added, shaking her head as she turned and made her way out of the alley.
Alone, I hung around outside, not wanting to be around all the craziness of the bar, knowing that with each passing day, it would be harder and harder to keep all my ugly shit buried down where it needed to be.
Objectively, I could go back to the clubhouse and wait for a call from the guys.
I didn’t want to do that, though.
I went ahead and tried to tell myself that was because of the unknown threat that had aimed at Riff and Raff when they’d blown into town last. The guys standing outside waiting for me would mean they were vulnerable.
But that wasn’t the reason.
I knew it as my gaze scanned the streets.
I could have tried to tell myself that I was looking for Kyle, for an opportunity to finish the job for Morgaine.
I knew that was bullshit too.
I mean, yeah, I did want to kill the fucker. My demons wanted to string him up and have some fun with him first, wanted to smell his blood and feel his intestines wrapped around my fingers.
But that wasn’t it either.
No.
I was looking for her.
I’d been looking for her since I left her damn tiny home days before. Even though I knew it seemed like she rarely left the damn place, and town was not somewhere I was likely to see her.
Then, though, it was like two birds with one stone.
One minute, I saw Kyle walking toward me. No doubt making his way to The Bog to throw away some of the money he was making from day jobs, and hit on women who wanted nothing to do with him.
Then, not far behind him, was a woman.
In a white sundress that looked way too damn good.
And blonde hair that looked way too damn shiny.
Another wig.
As she got closer, I confirmed what I’d been suspecting as she walked.
Morgaine.
In town.
Following fucking Kyle.
Alone.
No car.
No safe way to get away fast.
I probably could have just stepped out in front of her. I don’t know what possessed me to grab her like I did, to pull her into the alley, to have to fight a poisoned knife away from her once again.
That’s what I did, though.
I couldn’t say I was upset about the way it turned out, either.
Watching her skin flush with desire, the same desire that was clear in her light blue eyes.
Then feeling her shiver, hearing her breath get faster, seeing her lips part for me.
Yeah, all that had been worth her being momentarily pissed that I’d grabbed her.
Besides, I thought, after we got interrupted and I found myself walking around the market with her, it was probably good that she got grabbed, that she knew there were quite a few dark alleys in Shady Valley where assholes like Kyle could lie in wait for her.
I didn’t like that the world was full of dark places where dangerous men could hide. I didn’t like that women needed to be aware of that for their own safety.
But that was the world we lived in.
Maybe especially because Shady Valley was a prison town where all the ex-cons ended up. At least for a few hours or days before they figured out their next move.
An announcement about a sale on laundry detergent came on the speakers, shaking me out of my thoughts as I followed Morgaine up into another aisle.
She skipped the produce entirely. And of course she would. Everything in the grocery store produce section had to pale in comparison to the shit she grew for herself.
I’d spent some of my life around people who grew their own food. I knew from experience how much better it was when it was fresh.
She stuck to the more central aisles.
Rice, pasta, tea, vinegar, pure Castile soap.
And then she made her way to the candy aisle.
The last place I expected her to go.
But, apparently, she had a sweet tooth.
Not just for any kind of candy, either.
Oh, no.
Morgaine had a weakness for chocolate.
I stood back and watched as she put damn near one—or even six-packs—of candy bars into her little cart.
“Don’t judge me,” she demanded when she dropped the final one in. “I have very few vices. Chocolate is one of them.”
“Baby, I’m not judging. I’m impressed. Now think of how happy you are that I happened upon you tonight. If you had to walk all that shit home, you’d have a cart full of melted chocolate.”
