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Trouble was headed our way, and we were going to do everything we could to head it off before it got to us.
*
Chapter Ten
Dove
“You done?”
I rolled my eyes and zipped up my suitcase. “You weren’t kidding when you said I only had ten minutes.”
Throttle leaned against the doorway to my bedroom and folded his arms over his chest. “It’s been fifteen.”
“I’m sure Sloane and Aero are appreciating the alone time.” I grabbed a pair of boots from the closet and shoved them into a tote bag. “I don’t need more than tennis shoes and boots, right?”
“Depends on what you plan on doing at the clubhouse. Yarder isn’t big into ballroom dancing, but you could probably throw in a pair of heels to be on the safe side.” He peeked around me into my closet. “If you could pick one pair.”
I stepped in front of my closet and closed the door. “I like shoes.” Most of them were from my days of acting like the perfect daughter for my dad. Now they just hung out in my closet collecting dust.
I preferred it this way.
“Let me just grab some things from the bathroom, and we can get out of here.” I ducked into the bathroom and grabbed both my shampoo and conditioner from the shower. The little travel-size bottles I had brought on Friday were not going to last me long.
“This is a pretty nice place. Two-bedroom apartment on the ground level.” Throttle called. “That ice cream factory must have paid well.”
I rolled my eyes for the tenth time since I walked into my apartment. “It paid enough.”
“Then why doesn’t Sloane live in a place like this?” he asked.
I stared into the mirror and took a deep breath. “Uh, that would be because Sloane would rather spend half of her paycheck on books than live in something bigger than a studio apartment.”
Throttle’s low chuckle rumbled into the bathroom. “Something tells me that is not a lie.”
That damn laugh of his. It was the perfect timber that seemed to vertebrate through me and made my lady bits shiver.
“No books for me means I can live in a two-bedroom.” I opened my medicine cabinet and tried to think if there was anything else I needed to pack.
“But your closet full of shoes rivals a full bookshelf,” he countered.
“You would be right if I actually bought any of them.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Throttle moved into the bathroom doorway with a frown on his face. “Who the hell bought you shoes?”
“They’re old,” I blurted. “Uh, my parents bought them for me, and I just can’t seem to get rid of any of them.” I cradled my shampoo and conditioner in my arms and slammed shut my medicine cabinet. “I’ve got everything I need. We can head out.” I turned on my heel and pasted a smile on my face. “Let’s go.” I stepped toward Throttle, expecting him to step aside, but he didn’t move.
He was close. Very close.
“You do know your story isn’t adding up, right?” he asked quietly.
“Uh, what do you mean?” I asked. “I’m not telling stories.” Coming to my apartment had been a mistake. If anything, I should have insisted that Throttle just stayed in the van while I got my stuff.
I barely let Sloane in my apartment just to keep her from asking questions, but I just let Throttle waltz right in like he wasn’t going to question how I afforded this place on a factory salary.
“Just who are you, Dove?” he asked softly.
I juggled the shampoo and conditioner into one arm and managed to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Uh, I’m Dove. Not much to tell.” Jesus Christ. What on earth was happening?
“I need you to be straight with me, Dove. The club is looking closely at everyone around us to try and figure out who is trying to hurt us.” He closed the little bit of distance between us, crowding me into the bathroom. “How are you able to afford this apartment and just disappear for two weeks without a word to anyone?”
