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“Pity. She looks like somebody Granite used to fuck.” The man grabbed the front of his jeans, and the other patched members around him chuckled. “One hell of a lay, far as I can remember.”
Another man stepped forward. It was Granite from the name on the patch. Brewer bit his cheek to keep from decking the guy. He deserved more than that after what Delphi had insinuated he’d done.
“Delphi’s here?” Granite glanced behind Brewer. “I should probably go say hi. It’s been a while since I saw her. We didn’t get any breakup sex.”
“She’s taken, so go find somebody else,” Brewer said, shoving Granite’s chest. The man lived up to his name, but Brewer had a good fifty pounds of muscle on the other biker.
Granite laughed and shook his head. “She’s notthatgood of a fuck. Hell, I’ll finish up our business, then give the boys a bit of fun.”
Brewer bristled but didn’t give into the urge to deck him. He glared at Granite, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands until he drew blood. It wasn’t worth the risk. Not today at least.
He walked through the group of Cutthroats, hair on the back of his neck still upright. One wrong word and he’d be in deep shit. He could handle a couple Cutthroats, but definitely not a whole bar full of them.
Patting the small thumb drive in his front pocket, he nearly made it to the bar front before somebody called out his name. His club name.
“What the hell is a Macha bitch like Brewer doing here?”
Brewer turned around to see Skinner emerge from the dark area. “Just rolling through.”
Five bikers flanked Skinner, the expressions on their faces clearly showing how eager they were to dish out a beating. “Thought we agreed Macha and the Cutthroats would stay away from each other.”
Brewer ran a hand over his beard. He had to get out of there before something bad happened. Delphi couldn’t fend off a Cutthroat horde.
“And that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He turned and hurried to the bar. Seeing Delphi seated there, he silently swore under his breath. If they were lucky, they’d make it out of there without getting pommeled.
* * *
Brewer gripped the handlebars tighter,still ruminating on his conversations with the Cutthroats. The fact that she was asked about by name bothered him. Delphi wasn’t the kind of woman anyone would forget so easily. She had a way about her. Even when she breathed fire, she was gorgeous. But he didn’t like that more than one biker recognized her. The older biker, Sully, was more confusing, but maybe she’d shed some light on that later. He needed to talk to her, but not until they were safely back in Macha territory.
The road curved, and he clenched his jaw when Delphi hugged him at the turn.
The small flash drive in his pocket was filled with the intel his sister was promised.Sure hope it’s on there and we weren’t played.
A cold wind came from the west, buffeting the motorcycle slightly. He straightened out as he saw a sign for Snowshoe in the distance. The weather wasn’t ready to relent to spring quite yet. It was a good thing they were headed back to the clubhouse anyhow. Delphi wasn’t wearing enough clothes to keep her warm if the temperature dropped much further.
When they arrived in Snowshoe, he’d answer her questions, but he had a few of his own as well. That was fine by him, but he’d be doing it at the clubhouse. His phone vibrated again. Without a doubt Dolly was blowing his phone up with text messages. If he had to guess, his sister’s contact had reached out and dished on their hasty retreat.Great.Explaining the situation to Delphi was one thing, but his sister was a whole different story.Especially if Dolly’s looking to get out of club life.
The moment his front tire hit Macha’s clubhouse parking lot, he sensed a change in Delphi. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but the air around him seemed denser somehow.
He drove into the garage and parked, but before he shut off the engine, Delphi was off the bike and in his face.
“You better fucking tell me what happened in Waverley, Brewer Stapleton.” Her eyes shot blue daggers and her mouth was turned down in a fierce frown. If she wasn’t so angry, he’d kiss her into submission.
“Somebody’s old lady is pissed,” one of the prospects sang in a joking manner.
Brewer whipped his gaze to him, and the man went silent. Even the machinery in the garage seemed to quiet. That never happened.
Delphi poked his chest, her voice rising. “They had guns, Brewer. Guns. You know, the things that can kill you in an instant.”
Brewer pulled off his helmet and rested it on the bike’s seat. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, letting her have at it. The growing crowd of Macha prospects dispersed the instant he glared at them. Nobody needed to hear Delphi go off the rails except him. The fear was evident in her tone but even more so in her eyes. It was a look he hated with every molecule of his being.
“I agreed to go on a harmless ride this afternoon, but instead I get ushered to the one place I loathe, and then you leave.”
She flung her arms around, the garage emptying faster by the moment. Only Rubble and Kevlar stayed, but neither appeared to be listening, Kevlar hunched over the paperwork in the office while Rubble tinkered on a car. Brewer made a mental note to check in on them later. Rubble would want to see the flash drive.
“And to top it off, I end up running for my life because you went and said the wrong thing to somebody.” Delphi stopped pacing; her eyes rimmed with red. She wasn’t crying, but the tears were there just below the surface.
Brewer kept his temper in check. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t completely correct either. “Do you remember the Cutthroat you dated?”
