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Kat: Sounds like a bunch of empty promises if you ask me.
Ryder: Careful, Kitten. Play with fire… you’ll end up getting burned.
Kat: Didn’t you know, tough guy? I’m a Sinner. And Sinners grow up in the bowels of hell.
Switching my cell off, I shove it in my pocket and head for MacKellans. Ryder might not be willing to let me get fucked up on his watch, but lucky for me, I know plenty of guys who are.
* * *
“Come on, Travis, one more for the road,” I hold up my empty glass, swaying on the stool.
“Cutting you off, Kat. You’ve had enough.”
“Spoilsport.”
He chuckles, shaking his head when I poke my tongue out at him.
“Don’t need your brother and his MC storming the place looking for you.”
“Relax, no one knows I’m here.” No one cares.
MacKellans is a dive bar on the other side of town. I’ve been sneaking in here for the last year or so, when I need somewhere to go and lay low. Travis is good people. Unlike Styx, he doesn’t have any loyalty to my brother or the MC. But he’s clearly got some moral conscience left given he’s cutting me off.
“You need me to call you a cab?” he asks.
“What time is it?” I squint at my cell. “Shit, it’s six already? I’ve been here for hours.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He winks.
He isn’t wrong.
The crowd at MacKellans is always varied but they all have something in common. No one knows me or asks questions about the lone girl drinking her sorrows away. Travis vouches for me and that’s all that matters.
“I’ll walk home.”
“Like hell you will. I’ll call a cab or drive you myself.”
“Probably not a good idea, Trav. Big brother might spot you and paint a target on your back.”
“I’m heading toward fifty, K. Ain’t nothing Diesel or his biker friends can do to me that’ll stop me from taking in strays and giving them a safe place to lay low when they need it.”
“I appreciate it. You know that, right?” A lump gets stuck in my throat.
“I know. But don’t like seeing you like this, kid. All cut up inside, thinking you need to drink your body weight in liquor to ease the pain.”
Travis is like the father I never had. Okay, so he lets me drink and hang out at his very questionable establishment. But he’s a good man who always makes sure I get home safely.
“I’m going to call you a cab, okay? It’s time you went home and faced whatever sent you here in the first place.”
I let out a huff of disapproval but don’t argue. Because he’s right. I do need to go home.
I also need to turn my cell phone on.
But the second I do, I wish I hadn’t.
Message after message comes through.
My heart stalls at the first one as I read it through bleary eyes.
