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“You’re insane.” He aims at me. “And you’re a maniac.” His finger settles on my new partner in crime. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, expecting to see a glare, but it’s a sweet smile we’re greeted with instead. She looks like every biker's wet dream. Skinny jeans wrapped around her long legs, a white tee that offers a peek at the pale pink bra underneath, and a leather jacket sitting sharp on her shoulders. Add the combat boots into the mix and I’m surprised any of us can even function around her.
Visions of earlier flash in my head, and I bite back a groan. Gray offered me something I didn’t know I could give. To both of them.
“Thankfully, you love usdespiteour finer qualities,” she sasses, pulling me from my thoughts as she takes another step toward him, fluttering her eyelashes.
“That’s besides the point,” Ryker grumbles and widens his stance. “The point is you’re not going anywhere.”
I’m not really in the mood to argue, but it seems like there’s no need for me to get myself stressed over it when Scarlett is invested.
“It will be good for us, Ryker. Axel needs this… closure, and I need time away from your friends in there that really get under my skin.” Her reference to Declan and Graham pisses me off more than the mention of the ‘closure’ she speaks of. Ryker didn’t know what Shift had been helping me with over the past few years, but the look in his eyes now tells me someone has caught him up to speed.
My money is on Gray, since with the bloody nose Shift is sporting, it probably wasn’t him.
“We’re going to talk about this little secret that you’ve been hiding, Brother, but I still don’t think—”
“Ryker, please listen to me,” Scarlett interrupts, placing her hand on his chest. She inhales deeply, readying herself. “I’m not saying we’re coming home healed, but it’s going to be… something.”
They stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Acting like I’m not even standing here watching, like I’m not part of the topic of conversation, but to my surprise, it’s Ryker who sighs in defeat.
“Fine, I want your asses back here in twenty-four hours.” His grumble is cut off as he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.
“Forty-eight,” Scarlett quickly refutes, smiling against his mouth as she peppers him with a few more kisses. My stomach clenches, wanting to feel that for myself, but I’m not ready yet. Ryker raises his eyebrows in question, leaning his head back, and she smiles wider. “It’s a seven hour drive in each directionwithoutstopping, and I need my beauty sleep to become a killing machine…Mr. President.”
My cock twitches at her sultry tone. Ryker’s eyes widen, too. He fucking liked that.Idefinitely liked that.
“Fine,” he relents, far quicker than I expected, his gaze drawing to mine. “Forty-eight, but don’t make me send out a search party for one of you.”
Scarlett glances back at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“He thinks one of us will kill the other,” I offer. She gasps, pulling her hand from Ryker’s chest to press it against her own.
“I would never,” she says, turning back to look at him, but his eyes are settled on me.
“I’ve definitely thought about it,” I admit, slowly cutting the distance between us as Ryker steps away from the door. He pulls Scarlett along with him, wrapping his arms tightly around her for an extra beat as his lips find her temple.
“No, you haven’t.” Her jaw is slack as she peers at me, and I shrug. “Well, that’s not nice. I only ever considered maiming you at most,” she insists, her eyes narrowing before she turns to Ryker. She runs her thumb over his bottom lip before kissing him one last time. When he reluctantly releases her, she offers me another pointed stare as she opens the truck door and slides across to the passenger seat.
I don’t answer her until I’m seated beside her, seat belt in place, door closed, and engine rumbling beneath us.
“I deserve you maiming me, but if it helps, I haven’t even considered your demise since you let me see into your soul.”
* * *
Darkness is allI can see. The twilight hour swallows me whole as we near our destination. Scarlett sleeps beside me, head lolled to the side so I can see her face, and it’s hard as hell to not pull over and watch her.
She’s so innocent when she’s sleeping. You can’t see the way life has tainted her. There’s no calculated glare, no scanning for exits, no instant wall that she hides herself behind. I’ve never met someone so closely resembling myself.
I don’t know how to communicate with her past my usual grunts and growls, until it comes to my ropes and a level of intimacy I’ve never felt with anyone else. I don’t want her to think that’s all this is though, because it’s far from it. I’m addicted to her, just like I said I was. I still have my cigarettes in my pocket, but I haven’t even had a drop of liquor since she let me bind her arms that first night. Cocaine hasn’t even been a consideration, because when the urge comes, I think of her, and my needs transform.
I want to give her more, more of me, more of life, more of everything. I want to kill Declan and Graham for her and lay them at her feet, then I want to cut Kincaid’s head from his fucking shoulders and box it up as a present for her.
Talking with flowers, sunshine, and sprinkles isn’t me, and I get the feeling it isn’t her either. Just like she’s sitting here, en-route to kill someone who hurt me. I need to give her that too. I will.
My grip on the steering wheel tightens, pent-up anger and energy overflowing. We should be there in about twenty minutes. We stopped once on the way. Scarlett pestered me to let her take over driving, but I wouldn’t be able to do anything but get lost in my head if I was sitting shotgun. At least, this way, I’m occupied with the road just as much as I am with my head.
I should probably wake her, I just don’t know how.
As if sensing the stress building up inside of me, her eyes peer open, and she smiles lazily at me.
