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“Dex?” a woman’s voice calls.
Bitter unease slides down my spine.
That better not be who I think it is.
I glance up. A tall, slim figure skirts around the front of the dark red SUV. Shoulder-length blonde hair frizzes around her face. Skinnier than I remember. Large sunglasses hide most of her face, but I recognize her anyway.
Inga.
Fury seizes me. I jam my phone in my pocket and stomp closer. She better be a goddamn hallucination.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I roar, not giving a fuck who hears me.
Inga recoils, placing her hand against her chest.
Did she really expect me to be thrilled to see her? After the shit she pulled with my club?
Her initial shock seems to wear off. She pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and continues to approach. Hips swaying, head tilted—all the subtle signals she’s always used to get her way. I take in her gaunt face and the circles under her eyes. Her heeled boots scrape against the pavement, further grating my nerves.
“Dex,” she says in a let’s-be-reasonable tone, resting her hand on my shoulder.
I shrug it off. “Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking hand,” I warn. I’ve never intentionally hurt a woman but Inga’s begging to be the first by even showing her face here.
Shock widens her eyes and she holds up both hands in surrender. She clearly thought I was the easygoing brother who might let her traitorous deeds slide.
Wrong.
“Why the fuck are you here?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Seemed like the best place to find you.”
No, it probably seemed like thesafestplace to find me. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Why are you so hostile?” she asks in an offended tone. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so fucking pissed.
“Why?” My voice drips with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
Her nose wrinkles as if she’s searching her memory banks for all her possible misdeeds. What a deep, dark well of memoriesthatmust be.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Did all that coke you snorted rot a hole in your brain?”
“I’m clean now,” she snaps.
I scan her bony frame and chalky complexion.Doubtful.
“You sued eight of my brothersandme for paternity.” I speak each word slow enough for her selfish little brain to process. “Ring a bell?”
“That’swhat you’re so mad about?” Her skeletal face screws into a scowl. “I didn’t really have a choice. You think that was fun forme? It was humiliating.”
Me, me, me.Inga’s favorite song. She’s looking in the wrong place for sympathy.
“You didn’t have to send the papers to Rock’s wife,” I remind her.Thathad been the most fucked-up part of the whole situation. My brothers and I fucked around and found out. We owned that. And if any of us had been the father of her kid, we would’ve stepped up. Hope was innocent in the whole situation. She shouldn’t have been included in Inga’s vendetta against the club. “There was no reason to send Rock’s wife the lawsuit other than you being a spiteful bitch and you know it.”
A slight smirk curls the corners of her mouth, betraying her innocent excuses. “Well, she did legal work for you guys. How should I know?” she says as smoothly as a kid lying about not eating any cookies before dinner. “Are they even still together?”
As if I’d ever divulge information about my president or his wife to this little snake. Ignoring the question, I continue, “You knew damn well Glassman handled Crystal Ball’s legal matters. You had no problem sending your other lawsuit there.” I rub my fingers against my temple. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Get the fuck out of here and forget this place exists.”
“Dex, I just want to schedule a few shows.” She swipes a finger under her nose. “Please? I’m desperate here.”
