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Glancing back toward the cop, I hold his stare to keep from allowing my gaze to wander. “Are we done here?” I ask, the longer I wait, the more antsy I become, my hands balling into fists at my side.
“Yes, I believe so,” he says. “Unless you have anything more to add.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s everything,” I say before giving a polite nod and striding toward the crowd and away from High Voltage Ink.
Then keeping my gaze locked on Viper’s, I keep moving until I’m standing right in front of him, my finger digging into his wide, inked chest as fury and betrayal rock through my body. “How the hell could you do this to me?”
16
VIPER
Ragefiresthroughmyveins as I stare down at the woman who’s somehow managed to evade every one of my fucking advances for over six long years. My hands ball into fists at my side, my jaw clenching as I try to control myself, but I see it in her eyes, she’s all fired up and not even close to letting it go. Hell no, Kyah is only just getting started, and I can’t trust that whatever’s about to fly out of her mouth isn’t going to land me in hot water, no matter if I had anything to do with it or not.
My hand snaps up, closing around the back of her neck, and as her eyes widen, I drag her away, slipping into the shadows and disappearing from the street like a fucking ghost. I take her down the closest alley, and once we’re completely concealed by the building, I push her up against the wall and drop my hand, but I don’t dare release her from my stare. “The fuck did you just say to me?”
Tears run down her face, and the anger flooding her eyes is clearly enough for her to forget who the fuck she’s talking to as she shoves her small hands against my chest, trying to push me away. “You heard me,” Kyah spits. “You did it, didn’t you? You killed him.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Bullshit,” she cries. “You said it yourself. You said if he ever hurt me, you’d . . . you’d—”
“I’d what?”
She shoves at my chest again. “You’d kill him.”
My gaze narrows, and I pull back just an inch, hanging onto her words as she furiously wipes the tears off her face, and the more she does, the clearer the ugly bruise across her jaw becomes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl, gripping her chin and forcing her head up to better see her bruised jaw. “He did this? Crew fucking touched you, and I’m only just finding out now?”
Heat blasts through my veins, and I can barely hold onto the rage, needing to make the bastard suffer for what he did to her. Crew knew she belonged to me, he knew she would be my old fucking lady. He had no right to touch her. I knew they’d been fucking and had screwed around in the past, and I was down to let it go. I expected her to have fun, but there’s an unspoken rule when fucking with a woman who doesn’t belong to you—you keep your fucking hands off her. You treat her right. And this . . .
FUCK.
I step back from her, my hands at my temples. “I could fucking kill him for this,” I spit, unable to regain control.
“It’s too late for that,” Kyah throws back at me. “You already did.”
“I swear, Kyah,” I rumble, clenching my hands into tight fists. “Say those fucking words one more time, and I’ll end you right here on the fucking street. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
She shrinks away from me, and I clench my jaw, regretting my choice of words, but at some point, she needs to remember who the fuck she’s dealing with. I might want her as my old lady, and I’ll end up taking her by force if it comes to it, but she needs to learn to respect me, otherwise, our time together isn’t going to be fun for her.
Kyah tips her head back against the wall, breathing heavily. “You really didn’t do this?” she questions, her tone finally starting to simmer as she gathers herself, finding the control I’m still desperately searching for.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Then why are you here?” she pushes. “How did you just know to show up?”
I let out a heavy breath, finally finding just a shred of control and clinging to it like my life depends on it. “I’m the Vice President of the Grim Reapers, Kyah,” I remind her. “I make it my fucking business to know. If someone, even assholes as fucking low as Crew Ledger, is murdered in my town, then you can guarantee that I’ll be there.”
Hearing noise from the main street, we both turn to look, and I feel at ease seeing a few of my men hovering at the end of the alley. I have to give it to them, they have balls showing up here, especially considering that more than a few of them have warrants out for their arrest and that the street is crowded with cops, some a little more crooked than the others.
Turning back to Kyah, I find her gaze already on them with the kind of determination that reminds me just how strong she is. That’s exactly why I want her to be mine. At some point, I’ll step up as President of the Grim Reapers, and when that happens, I’m gonna need a strong woman at my side, someone who’ll keep me grounded and turn a blind eye to the bullshit. I’m still trying to figure out if she can handle that last part, but I think she’ll be alright.
“The other day,” she says, her voice breaking, “you said Crew was no good for me, that he wasn’t a good guy—”
“Kyah,” I breathe, stepping right into her and bracing my arms on the wall beside her, caging her in as I tip my head, my forehead just an inch from hers. “Don’t ask me what you’re about to ask me.”
“He was one of my best friends, Viper. I knew him for six years, and after the past few days, I’m starting to wonder if I even knew him at all. I need to know,” she says, her chest heaving. “What was he involved in?”
I clench my jaw, reluctant to have this conversation with her. He was a piece of shit, and he was involved in some unsavory business, but it all came back to his bastard brother. Hell, if he wasn’t around, I’m sure Crew might have been able to keep his nose clean, but his brother made sure that if he was going down, he was gonna drag Crew down with him.
