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Each club is run so differently that we don’t always see eye-to-eye with operations. If we want food and my mom hasn’t already taken care of us, I’ll make it myself. The Ruthless Bitches are there under our protection, but I wouldn’t trust any of them near the fucking food.
“I’m too scared to find that out for a fact,” Ryker murmurs.
Paisley adjusts his stance, pointing over his shoulder as he leans in closer. “If I’m honest, I’m surprised you weren’t in here earlier when the Devil’s Brutes were here.”
I freeze, blood running hot and cold at the news. “They were here?”
“Oh, like clockwork. They were doing their collection rounds as they always do this time of the week. Strip everyone of their possessions, eat the grub at our sworn neutral ground, and then fuck right back off to the depths of hell they came from,” Paisley explains. I can’t decide whether he’s dropping this information on purpose or completely blasé. “Have you cleared your shit up with them yet?” Ryker scoffs at that.
“If they’re still coming in here and fucking with everyone, then no, definitely fucking not.”
Paisley stands tall, straightening his cut as he stares at Ryker. “Well, me and my men have had a vote…”
“And…” I push when he forgets to finish his fucking sentence.
“And… we’re interested in your thought process. Keep us in the loop.” With that, he knocks his fist on the table two times, waiting a brief moment until Ryker returns the motion, and they’re out of there in a flash.
“What the fuck just happened?” I scratch my head.
“We just got the details to start piecing together plan A.”
NINETEEN
Scarlett
A yawn threatensmy lips even though I slept hard last night. My limbs ache from life taking its toll on me, and the back of my neck itches like a bitch for the best possible reason. Slipping into one of Emmett’s t-shirts, I tiptoe across the room, peering over my shoulder at him as his chest continues to rise and fall softly.
The door clicks shut behind me. I’ve laid snuggled in his arms for close to an hour, and if my stomach continues to grumble, he’s going to wake up.
Padding barefoot down the hallway, I pull my hair tie out, running my fingers through the length before scooping it back up into a messy bun. I really should attempt to run a brush through it today. The likelihood is slim though, hence the knot on my head.
The smell of bacon tickles my nose as I near the kitchen, and when I glance around the doorframe, I find Maggie by the stove.
“Morning,” I murmur, moving further into the room as she smiles at me.
She’s rocking a pair of heeled boots, laced up to mid-thigh, with a pair of skinny jeans, and a ripped Metallica tee. I want to be her when I grow up. She’s too fucking cool for all of us.
“Morning. It feels like forever since it’s been just the two of us in here,” she states, winking at me before glancing back down at the pan she’s using.
Stepping up to the coffee machine, I groan in delight when I see it’s already full and piping hot. “We really need to make a plan for it more often. It’s quiet, the coffee is hot, and I actually like your presence,” I reply with a grin, filling a mug with the liquid goodness.
Maggie places a used mug in front of me, nodding at it for me to top her off, and I do just that.
“With college going on as well now, I get the feeling your schedule is going to be looking a little hectic for a while.” Her words make me tense, but they’re said with an air of approval as opposed to disappointment. Who knew I would find a group of people willing and wanting to support me in everything I do. From a paid assassin to a college student. It seems a pat on the back is waiting just around the corner for me every time.
“There’s always time for you, Mags,” I promise, fluttering my eyes at her. “Especially if you have any of the good stuff to spare.” As I point at the food cooking, she produces a plate from the oven, already topped with scrambled egg and bacon. She places it on the countertop beside me, and I almost fall to my knees with gratitude. “Holy shit, Maggie. I love you.”
I cut across the distance to squeeze her arm in appreciation, and she chuckles at my dramatics. “Who knew there was such a soft center under all of your layers,” she teases.
Grabbing my mug and plate, I take my usual seat at the dining table, and she quickly follows suit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have layers.” I fake a pout before stuffing my face with food, and she chuckles.
“What is it that ogre once said? Like an onion,” she muses, and I glare at her.
“If I’m anything, it’s a fucking cake. A tasty red velvet heap of deliciousness.”
She nods, accepting my description as she reaches for her fork. The pair of us eat away in silence, enjoying the food and liquid gold before us. I woke up this morning, excited and nervous with the prospect of my new tattoo, the worry of impending doom still looming over our heads, and the unknown that comes with attending college. It's a whole other world to me. It’s definitely going to take time for me to get comfortable.
“Top off?” Maggie offers as she rises with her mug, and I quickly rush to my feet and take the mug from her.
