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I watched as they rode out and one of the prospects secured the gate. Pulling out my smokes, I lit up another, smoking so damn much I should be nicknamed Chimney with all the damn stress of the last few months.

Rael rode in about ten minutes later. He parked his hog and then charged my way with purpose. Whatever he had to say I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or a confrontation. If he challenged me, I wouldn’t back down.

“Heard from Mammoth and Grim.”

So? What was his point? “Yeah.”

“Mammoth might be heading into trouble.”

Frowning, I didn’t like his tone. “And?”

He got up close to my face and looked dead into my eyes. With his freaky black and white skull makeup it was kind of fucked-up. Narrowing my gaze, I waited for his next words before I punched him in the face. My fingers twitched on both hands as my Reaper hovered just below the surface of my skin.

“Xenon texted me. He wants to talk to us.”

I didn’t blink or back away, just stayed exactly where I was. “About?”

“Fuck, Bodie. When we gonna work this shit out?”

I moved forward a step and closed the distance between us. My eyes wanted to cross we were so near to one another. “When you stop fucking with me, Rael.”

The right side of his lip curled up in a snarl. “You know, I kind of like how you don’t take my shit. It’s fucking sexy, brother.”

Motherfucker was crazy. That was all there was to it. Neither one of us moved for about ten seconds.

With a shake of my head, I gave him a light shove. “You’re sick in the head.”

A wide grin spread across his face, looking like some demented Halloween mask gone wrong. “Knew you thought I was special.”

Snorting, I flipped him off and turned toward the entrance to the clubhouse. “Stop fucking around. We need to talk to Xenon.”

“Right after you, honey.”

Asshole.

“You cut your hair.”

Cindi was seated at one of the tables in the common room, painting her nails a dark shade of red that was nearly black. “Hey, Sasha. Yeah, I did.”

I supposed she probably needed a change after all that happened. “I like it.” Spiky, blonde, and sassy. Just like Cindi although she had a sweet side too.

This was the first conversation I’d had with her in weeks. I was always working or with Bodie and she was spending a lot of time with Lucky. He hardly left her side.

My gaze swept over the scars visible on her arms and legs. Pink, puffy marks that ran the length of her skin and were still fading in spots. I swallowed hard. Guilt surfaced every time I bumped into her as the memory of that day invaded my mind with a vengeance. It was my fault. I left her stranded without her phone or a vehicle when I sped off to rescue Trish. It was obvious now that Dawg had been tailing the SUV and noticed when we stopped at Wal-Mart. He probably staked the Crossroads for the opportunity.

While I was on my way to meet Acid, Cindi was left alone and vulnerable. Dawg carved her up and left her to die in the cold by the trash dumpsters. He probably thought she would bleed out. The frigid temperatures had saved her life. Over a hundred stitches later, she was sewn back up but the trauma of the attack hadn’t faded completely.

I doubt it would for any of us. Trish was just as fucked-up as me and Cindi.

Cindi was the only who carried the visible scars. Lowering my gaze and prepared to rush toward the room I shared with Bodie, she caught me off guard with her softly spoken words.

“You don’t have to act like I’m made of glass.”

I swallowed hard, meeting the determined set of her jaw as she gestured to the table. “I know.”

“I’m not,” I argued, taking the seat across from her. “I just feel so damn bad about what happened. It kills me to know you got hurt because I left you –”

She cut me off. “You didn’t slice me up with a knife, Sasha. Dawg did.”

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