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“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” His pulse skyrocketed. “You don’t think she’s related to him, do you?”
“It’s a common surname, but the way she just disappeared makes me wonder.” Rubble chewed on his thumbnail, brows furrowed. “Did she ever mention her parents’ names when you were together?”
“No, and I never asked. I was a dumb kid. Her parents were the last thing on my mind.”
Rubble rolled his eyes and smirked. “Clearly.”
Kevlar glanced to his oldest living friend. The war had taken the rest. He’d made it out alive and in one piece. He couldn’t say the same for the other men in his company. Rubble was the reason he joined Macha. The club members were the brothers he always wanted. But Rubble was more than that to Kevlar. He was the brother he’d never had.
Standing, Rubble left the room and returned with a six-pack of ice-cold beer. He thudded it down on the table between them. “If you think there’s even an inkling that Nikita is related to Estevan Morales, we need to find out. The man controls Diablos from prison. And as you know, the rumor is that the Cutthroats are in bed with Diablos.” He pointed his beer. “The same rumor we went to Waverley to investigate and couldn’t get information on thanks to your little reunion.”
Kevlar opened his mouth but was too slow.
“We’ll circle back to Waverley later.” Rubble cracked his knuckles. “Even if Nikita isn’t related, she’s in danger the longer she stays there.”
Kevlar rolled his neck from side to side. “Yeah, I know. She’s too stubborn to see it.”
“Maybe you should try talking to her. A blast from the past at a loud bar probably isn’t the best place for a reunion.”
Thinking it over, he nodded. “True. Maybe I’ll cruise the streets and see if I can run into her again.”
The clubhouse sounds overwhelmed any chance of silence. In a way, Kevlar was grateful for the distraction. Kita had never left his mind or his heart. He carried her there since that rainy, spring day she never showed up at the coffee shop. She was in his skin like the tattoos covering his flesh. He couldn’t get rid of her and didn’t want to. No matter how many women he fucked, Kita always came to mind.
“You really loved her.”
He met Rubble’s gaze. “I don’t think I ever stopped.”
Chapter Six
Nikita
“Okay,my curiosity is killing me. Who the hell was he?”
Nikita downed her shot of tequila, then Mandi’s. “No one.”
“Yeah, okay, right.” The short brunette grabbed her face. “Who on God’s green earth was that sexy biker who clearly has a thing for you? Judging from his tight jeans, a very big thing.”
Flicking her gaze from her friend to the door Kevlar recently left, she sighed. “An old flame, all right? One I haven’t seen in fifteen years.”
“And you get him all riled up after all this time?” Mandi dropped her hold and whistled. “Damn, girl.”
Nikita turned toward the bar and leaned her elbows on it, her pulse thumping her chest harder than the rock music over the speakers. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here to do a job,” she whispered harshly. “No distractions.”
Mandi hopped on the barstool next to her and rubbed her hand down Nikita’s back. “But, he’s a super-hot distraction.”
Nikita glared at her. “No.”
“What? Just for a night?” She reached down and adjusted her breasts, so more cleavage stood out beneath the blue V-cut. “Hell, if you don’t want him, I’ll ride his— “
“Stop,” she growled.
Giggling, Mandi shimmied her shoulders toward an incoming bar patron. “Fine, he’ll do then.”
She grabbed Mandi’s wrist. “What’re you doing?”
“If we don’t act the part, they’ll kick us out.” Mandi’s blue eyes went toward the group of Cutthroats Kevlar and Rubble recently sparred with. Each one diligently watched their movements, almost as if they were waiting for a fuck up.
Not wanting to put the operation in jeopardy, she released Mandi’s wrist and forced a smile on her face. “Fine, just don’t do anything with him.”
