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“She’s not! She’s trying to help this kid!”
“… calm down, dude… know you’ve got a thing… hot piece of ass for sure, but that doesn’t change anything.” That came from Reaper’s riding buddy. He better not be talking about me. Hot piece of ass… I might have a master’s degree, but I’m still the same girl that mastered a butterfly knife at age thirteen.
Rattler pushes off of the wall, standing straight. He crosses the room and says something to Reaper, who just nods and keeps talking. Rattler disappears, but Beast is still pacing, his expression stormy. A rottweiler the size of a small horse trails after him, wagging his stump of a tail.
“… has nothing to do with how I feel… We all know she’s kept her distance from Chaos. If she’s telling the truth, and I think she is, this could be life or death for… are you really willing to discount it because… blood on the streets…”
Jesus. He reallyisgoing to the mats for me. Warmth wraps itself around my ribs, squeezing my lungs. I give my shoulders a slow roll, acutely aware that I shouldn’t like the way he makes me feel. My ovaries are just extra horny or something.
Reaper nods slowly, seeming to agree with Beast. “Yeah, okay.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived. Very short-lived. The warmth I felt at Beast’s sticking up for me vanishes, replaced by an icy stab of terror. Something hard presses between my shoulder blades as an unmistakable, metallic click echoes in the dark.
4
RATTLER
I’m getting sick of this conversation and my attention is wandering. Beast and I already agreed we’re going to help Elle. One way or the other. I can’t abide a man beating his kid. Fuck that. For another, Beast has been hard up for her since he was a teenager. He’s not a local, not originally, but he spent summers here with his gram, and even back then, he wanted her.
He wasn’t the only one. My old man caught me eyeing her at the drive-in once. Beat the ever-loving shit outta me, too. “That girl is Chaos. She’s poison.” I learned to be more discrete after that. I wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d notice me back then, and I certainly wasn’t stupid enough to set foot in Peril. But word got around if she was hanging out with friends in Haven. Those words were warnings, but I learned real quick that if I wanted a glimpse of Cherry, I could cruise downtown on my bike and no one was the wiser. Even a sighting was enough to make the trip worth it.
Then she moved to Haven. By that time, Beast and I were already splitting the house and tag teaming club candy. Hell, what else were we supposed to do? We both wanted the same woman; she just happened to be the one woman we couldn’t touch without starting a goddamn war. I’m not much for fate or romance or whatever the fuck else you call it, but I fucking want her. We both do.
And maybe we can’t have her. Life is a cruel bitch like that, but if she’s coming tousfor help. She’s going to get it. Beast did a good job at the bar, keeping her at arm’s length like he did. I doubt anyone, even Reaper, saw through it. But I did. That look in his eyes was all too familiar. Neither of us have ever been that close to her, and from the second she sat down on that stool, he was a goner. Just like me.
“Fuck, Beast, calm down, dude. We all know you’ve got a thing for Cherry, and I get it. She’s a hot piece of ass for sure, but that doesn’t change anything.” Ace interjects. Reaper may have brought him to be the voice of reason, but I’m about to shove that reason so far up his ass—something moves out of the corner of my eye. A little shift outside of the window. It’s just a shadow, really, but I know better than to ignore the crawling sensation that ripples over my skin.
Someone is watching us.
I cross the room, keeping my eyes on Reaper. He watches me as I put my back to the window. “I think I saw something out front. I’m gonna go check it out,” I say softly. His expression doesn’t change, but he puts his hand to his hip, asking if I’m packing. “Yup.” He nods at that, turning his attention back to the conversation.
I head for the kitchen and open the fridge, pulling out the Colt revolver I keep tucked in a false milk jug. Checking the ammo, I swear. Why the fuck is it empty? Whatever. Taking the empty gun with me, I step outside into the inky night and creep around the side of the house.
In the light spilling out of the front window, I can see a shadowy figure, all dressed in black. Whoever it is, they’re too interested in what’s going on inside to notice me coming up behind. Until I pull back the hammer, that is. I press the barrel of the empty gun right between their shoulder blades.
The figure in front of me gives a tiny jump, just a split second of panic, before standing ramrod straight. There’s something extra satisfying about getting the drop on someone like this. It’s really not something I get to do enough.
“Hands,” I growl. Slowly, shakily, two hands rise into the air. It’s only then that I notice the red nail polish.
I let out a low laugh. A scoff of disbelief, really. It mother fucking can’t be. “Turn around,” I demand. Hands still high, the figure turns, and there, right underneath that black hoodie, is Elle Rainer. She stares me down icily, like I’m the intruder and not her.
“Can you not?” Her eyes, sparkling in the faint light, flick down at the gun and back up to meet mine, but I don’t move.
“You wanna tell me what you’re doing in my garden in the wee hours of the morning, Red?”
“I wanted to make sure you were going to do something. It’s not like you were going to call with updates. Or did I read that wrong?” She asks haughtily. Holding my gaze, she slowly lowers one hand. Using just one finger, she angles the gun away from her chest.
I lower the weapon, flicking it open and showing her the empty cylinder. I can see the indignation building in her eyes. “Asshole,” she mutters.
I just grin at her. “Inside, Red.”
Cherry sets her hands on her hips and taps a foot impatiently. “No. Just tell me what’s going on.”
I glower at her, letting out a mirthless chuckle. Everything about her invades my senses. Her juicy, mouth-watering apple scent. That determined gleam in her eye. Fuck, even the adrenaline fueled breaths she keeps taking.
“Suit yourself,” I say before dropping my shoulder and scooping her up. With my arm banded around the back of her luscious thighs and her hips resting on my right shoulder, I march her through the front door.
Conversation dies the second I cross the threshold. Hands go to concealed weapons and eyes widen at the way my unwilling captive snarls like a cornered cat. Cherry struggles against me, stronger than I expected. I’m not a small dude, but the way she thrashes nearly throws me off balance more than once.
