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Knowing if I don’t do this now, I’m never going to find the lady-balls to end it, and I swipe my thumb across the screen, unlocking it. I open a new text to Alex, feeling like a piece of shit for not being able to end it in person.
Kyah - I’m sorry. I can’t do this.
Alex - I know you’re not trying to end this before it’s even gotten started.
Kyah - That’s the point. I need to end it before I get too deep. I really like you, Alex, but this can’t work right now. It’s just not the right time. I’m sorry. It’s over.
Alex - The hell it is.
Fuck.
Something tells me ending things with him isn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. Hell, he’s so demanding that I should have known he wasn’t just going to accept being told no without a fight. Though I’m not going to lie, the fact that he’s not willing to just accept me pushing him away kinda makes me feel a little tingly inside.
Hearing the bell chime above the door, I abandon my phone on the table and get busy with my work. I’ve got a lot to get through today considering I need to re-do these shitty designs and talk with Viper, assuming he actually shows up, of course. Otherwise, I’ll be hunting the bastard down. Though I’m sure he won’t take too kindly to me showing up at his clubhouse uninvited like that. Nor is that really somewhere I want to be.
I keep myself busy over the next few hours, and when the bell chimes over the door again and Viper comes in with a hard expression and a clenched jaw, I don’t know whether to be anxious or relieved.
He holds my stare from across the shop, and I quickly clean up my things. My last client was done ten minutes ago with the next not due until after lunch. “Hey Big Jim,” I say, grabbing my phone off my table and trying to figure out where I left my bag. “I’m heading out for lunch.”
Jim glances up, his gaze flicking between me and Viper, a deep suspicion flashing in his eyes. He’s always had respect for Viper and appreciated his business, but there’s no denying that over the years, he’s made it clear what he thinks about the idea of Viper wanting to make me his old lady.
“Alright,” Jim says slowly, his tone low as he settles his gaze back on Viper. “If she doesn’t return the way she’s leaving, I’m coming for your fucking throat.”
Viper simply nods, but I don’t think Big Jim’s threat is necessary. Viper has made it clear that he has no ill will toward me. He goes to extreme lengths to protect me, but he can’t exactly be trusted. If I was to push his boundaries a little too far, he’d snap without warning. There’s no flex when it comes to Viper. He’s not like an elastic band that can be stretched a million different ways. He’s like tempered glass; he can handle the weight and stress, but if pushed the wrong way, he’ll break.
Walking out of the shop with Viper, he presses his hand to my lower back, leading me down the street. “What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t,” I tell him, stopping halfway down the street and looking up at him. “I didn’t ask you to meet me today so we could go out for some romantic lunch date. I want answers, Viper. I want to know why the fuck Crew’s brother is cornering me in the middle of the night, and I want to know what kind of bullshit Crew was involved in.”
Viper presses his lips into a tight line, his gaze shooting up and down the street, making sure our conversation can’t be overheard. “Fucking hell, Kyah. Lower your goddamn voice,” he says, gripping my elbow and pulling me across the road toward a small café.
Viper pushes through the door, and the lady behind the counter widens her eyes, clearly terrified of the big guy. “Two coffees and a turkey sub,” he barks at the woman, continuing past her to the table in the back, dragging me along.
I let out a heavy breath and am delightfully surprised when he pulls the chair out for me. “Sit,” he demands, instantly ruining the appeal of his gesture.
Not willing to push his limits just yet, I do as he says, taking my seat and watching as he drops down on the other side of the table, barely able to fit his large frame into the chair. “You can’t be talking about this shit out in the open like that,” he says. “You don’t know how many eyes and ears Mason has on you.”
“Mason? Is that Crew’s brother?” I ask. Viper nods, and I swallow hard, unsure why my hands are shaking beneath the table. “What’s he involved in?”
“Have you ever done a Google search on Crew? You didn’t hear anything on the news after he was killed?”
Viper pauses, waiting for my response, and I shake my head. “I could barely get out of bed after Crew was attacked, let alone turn on the TV to listen to the news,” I tell him, unsure where he’s going with this. “I don’t understand why the news would want to cover anything to do with Crew’s death. It was a robbery gone wrong.”
“Was it?” he questions, letting out a heavy sigh and leaning back in his chair. “Mason Ledger is a piece of shit. He deals in stolen goods.”
My brows furrow. “What kind of stolen goods?”
Viper holds my stare, his gaze quickly flicking around the small café again. “I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you can not come back on me,” he tells me. “This ain’t my business, and if it gets back to Mason that I opened my fucking mouth, it’s gonna come back on my club, and I can’t have that.”
I nod. “I won’t say a word.”
“I’m fucking serious, Kyah,” he says. “This is the type of shit people lose their lives over. Once you know, there’s no going back, and it’s going to change the way you see Crew. All those memories over the years will be replaced with nothing but vile ugliness.”
I clench my jaw, feeling an intense pressure settling over my shoulders, but how can I back out now? I need to know what the hell is going on. “Just tell me, Viper,” I say. “What kind of stolen goods is his brother dealing in?”
“The human kind.”
I suck in a breath, my eyes widening in shock. “What do you mean?” I ask. “Are you saying he’s involved in human trafficking?”
