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“Who?” I ask darkly. I go through the lists of men associated with Spencer and The Berserkers, and everyone is accounted for. Everyone except—
“Riot,” Bash says. I groan and press my back against the chair.
“He’s a fucking asshole,” I say.
“He’s good at what he does. He’s stealthy and can kill a man before they even realize he’s there. You need backup and all our guys can’t fucking do it. You know Riot will cover you.”
“Riot doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself,” I retort. “If shit goes down, he’ll get himself out first.”
“He’s not that much of a bastard,” Bash laughs. “He’s got a code. He’ll have your back.”
I know that Riot is good, he’s better than good, but still. I don’t like sharing. I want to do this on my own. But I can’t argue my way out of this one.
“Fine,” I grit out.
“Remember, this is Ax’s kill,” Bash says. I roll my eyes as I push to my feet.
“Yep, I remember, Prez.” I knock on the table and Belfast lifts his eyes to mine. “Just text it to me. I gotta handle some shit.”
“What–”
“I just gotta go,” I say, waving dismissively as I walk toward the door.
* * *
I hesitatebefore lifting my fist and knocking on the door. I’m not sure if she’s even home, and a weird mixture of wanting to see her and never wanting to see her wars inside my chest. But even if she doesn’t want to see me, I want her to know I won’t be here.
I asked myself why I even cared if she knew I would be in town or not. It’s not like she’ll give a fuck either way. But…if she needs me, I want her to know I’ll still get to her as fast as I can. I want her to know she can call my club and they’ll protect her. She’s still mine, even if she hates me.
Even if a small part of me hates her.
The door slowly opens before I can knock again and Ian glares at me. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, clearing my throat.
“Hey, kid. Your mom home?” He folds his arms over his chest as he narrows his eyes, glaring harder.
Fuck. He looks like Kennedy.
“Nope,” he says. “And even if she was, I wouldn’t let you see her.” I nod a few times.
“She told you what happened, then?” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, and I grin at him. “She didn’t.” His throat bobs as he swallows. Leaning against the doorframe, I cross my arms and smile broader. “So, you’re pissed at me…why?”
“Because she is,” he says plainly. “And I don’t like you.”
“You liked me fine the other day.”
“That was before you came into our house and wouldn’t leave,” he snaps. “You scared her. I should’ve beaten you with the bat ‘till you left.” I shrug and look down at my feet.
“Yeah, probably should’ve.” He’s silent, like he was expecting me to argue with him. “Just let her know I won’t be in town for a few days.”
“Why?” I look up at him. His glare has morphed into something cautious, unsure. Curious. “Where are you going?”
“Gotta go to Oregon.” His brows lift, and I huff out a laugh. “I’m hunting.”
“Hunting?”
“Hunting a guy who betrayed my club.”
“You’re going to kill him?” His voice comes out quiet, and his eyes widen.
