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“Why would we want to do something like that?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Knight. Talking to her about it implies she has options. She doesn’t. The second she let us into that pussy, she was ours.”
“I’ll tell you what, Splinter. You tell her that, and I’ll stand way back while she shoots you in the face. That way, I only have to deal with one idiot.”
“Fuck you. You’re the one over there wanting to talk about your feelings. I don’t hide who I am, dickhead qualities and all. I’m a biker, and right now, you’re more biker-lite.”
I throw my bottle at him. He catches it before it crashes into the wall, but it doesn’t stop the beer from splashing everywhere.
“Will you two knock it off? Jinx will kick our asses out if we trash the place,” Knight complains.
A low rumble has us glancing down at the mammoth-sized dog asleep in the corner.
“That’s if she doesn’t feed us to him first,” Splinter mumbles as he reaches for the roll of paper towels.
He cleans up the mess as I look around the kitchen. It’s large with an island in the center, and six high-back chairs line one side of it. It’s all white cupboards and marble countertops, modern, minimalist, and completely clutter-free.
I turn to take in the rest of the open-concept design. The kitchen gives way to the living room, which has a huge sectional sofa that looks like it could fit an army of people on it. A television mounted above a fireplace on the wall opposite looks like it could rival the one back at the compound. The mantel is decorated with candles and photos, and the sofa has about a million cushions covered in an array of rainbow colors, giving it Jinx’s stamp. A reading chair sits at an angle to the sofa with a side table and a lamp, plus there’s a large window seat on the far side under the bay window.
Everything is on one level, even the bedrooms, and now I realize that’s a choice. She might have prosthetics, but that doesn’t stop her from needing her wheelchair some days. There is no clutter lying around—nothing for her to trip on. Hell, there aren’t even any rugs. It’s been carefully designed to suit her needs, and if we want Jinx in our lives, we’ll have to remember that she will always need slightly different things than we do.
“We should see if Shredder wants to swap rooms with one of us.”
Knight looks at me with a frown. “Why? Ours are bigger.”
“They’re also upstairs.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Eightball. First, we still need to get her on board. And secondly, she will kill you herself if you start treating her like she has a disability.”
I blow out a breath and take a seat at the counter, knowing he’s right. The quickest way for her to kick us to the curb is for us to suddenly start treating her like she’s weak.
The sound of a key in the door has all three of us pulling our guns and aiming them as Toto jumps up and starts barking. As soon as the door opens, he takes off, diving for the person walking through, who just manages to brace themselves in time before they are taken out by three hundred pounds of excitement.
“Jesus fuck, Toto. Yeah, yeah, I missed you too,” the voice mutters as the door is pushed open wider.
Eyes clash with mine as a second person walks through with a gun aimed my way.
“You want to focus on the fucking issue at hand and not the dog for a minute, Rex.”
Rex whips his head up and glares at us as Toto sits on his feet. “Didn’t think I’d find a bunch of fucking bikers in my girl’s kitchen. Where is she?”
Rex hasn’t pulled his weapon yet, but I know he’s armed. He looks from me to the bedroom when I don’t answer, anger growing on his face.
“You motherfuckers. What did you do?” he roars a second before Toto trots off toward the bedroom when the door opens.
“What the hell is all the yelling about? Oh. What are you guys doing here?”
“Which guys is she talking about?” Knight mutters under his breath.
“I think she knows we’re here since we just had our dicks inside her,” Splinter snaps at him. The guy with the gun—Nico, I belatedly remember—turns almost in slow motion at Splinter’s comment.
“What did you just say?” His voice is low and lethal, and I know this situation is about to slip from clusterfuck to deadly.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Nico. Dial down the psycho bullshit for a minute, will you? Explain how you’re back. I thought you were still working the case.”
“I told you we could make it back in a few hours.”
“Yeah, could, not would.”
