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“I’m gonna head home to change,” Dante stated. “Meet you out front in a half hour.”
Then he walked off without looking back.
His nerves were snapping, and Dante hated it. He hadn’t felt this unsettled since…well, since he was on active duty in the army. Never knowing what was around the next corner, waiting for the enemy, waiting for death. And still being shocked when death appeared in front of him.
That’s why he avoided attachments as much as possible. You get close to someone, the pain of losing them never leaves.
He spotted Xander on his way out the door and pulled him aside. “Besides the ear comm, you still have the tracking device in Sage’s phone, right?”
“Course. As long as she’s around us, that’s the deal. She’s still a fucking outsider, man.”
Dante shook his head and sighed. “I don’t like this at all.”
“Working with her?”
“Putting her in danger. She doesn’t have experience with bikers, and she’s pretending to be an ol’ lady? This has disaster written all over it.”
“She seems like she can handle herself. And you,” Xander winked. “Besides, we’ll keep an ear on you guys. It’s fine.”
“You should check out her war room.”
“I’m going there right after I make a few calls. Gage wants me to document every she’s dug up.”
“Are you telling her?”
“No fucking way,” Xander laughed and walked off.
Dante wandered back to his cottage.
Like most of the member houses, it was small. Two bedrooms – one he used as a home gym, and a bathroom, plus a galley kitchen. Compared to Sage’s sprawling house, his place felt cramped. But it suited his purpose. All he needed was a massive couch, a leather recliner, and a bed. Dante was used to living from a suitcase, always prepared to leave wherever he was at a moment’s notice. It had been like that growing up with unstable parents and it was still like that today. Even though he’d been living on the compound for five years, and two in this cottage, he kept things minimal, just in case.
He wasn’t attached to things. Well, except his bike.
After stripping, Dante had a quick shower and changed into clean jeans, a black t-shirt, and his cut. Then he slipped on his best pair of biker boots, the ones with the metal spikes on the tip, and grabbed his phone and keys.
He stalked over to the closet and grabbed his hunting knife and his Glock.
Okay, maybe there were three things he was attached to.
After checking the gun’s magazine, he grabbed another two rounds of ammo and slid them into his pockets.
The army had taught him many things. Check your weapons regularly, recollect your training, and most of all, trust in your instinct.
He’d fought many battles and he was still standing. That had to count for something.
12
SAGE
Sage was doubting her sanity.
She stood beside Dante’s bike in the club parking lot, in painful heels and tight clothing that showed off way too much of her skin. She wanted to wipe off the makeup, ditch the heels, and run back home.
Investigating from afar was one thing. Getting up close and personal with potential murder suspects was another. For a moment, she’d wondered if she’d outsold her bravado.
But then she thought about her sister’s body at the morgue. At what had been done to her.
And her fury had Sage standing tall and ready to fight.
