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“Nice, doll,” I laughed. It was a good thing there wasn’t a Buc-ee’s close to Mt. Pleasant because Sloane and Dove would live there.
Everyone piled back into their vehicles, and I cranked up the van.
“How many hours until we’re home?” Sloane asked.
“Two hours until we are back in Mt. Pleasant and on lockdown in the clubhouse,” Aero drawled.
Dove wrinkled her nose. “You could have left that last part out,” she grumbled. “You just ruined my Buc-ee’s buzz.”
“Well, you better hold on to that buzz, doll, because this is the last Buc-ee’s on our trip.” I pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the freeway.
“Totally killing my Buc-ee’s buzz.” She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a stuffed beaver. “Thankfully, this guy will help.”
“My god, Dove,” I laughed.
“I got the same one!” Sloane laughed. “It’s my last souvenir of the best trip ever.”
“Awe,” Dove sighed. “That’s why I got him, too. This really was the best time ever. It’s crazy to think we’re heading back into the shitstorm my dad created.”
I reached over and threaded my fingers through Dove’s. “None of this is your fault, doll.”
“Even though I agreed to spy on you guys?” she mused.
“Even that,” Sloane called, “because you knew you weren’t going to find any dirt on the Iron Fiends and were just doing what you could to get your trust fund.”
I didn’t want Dove to feel that any of what was happening with Dad was her fault. There was no way she could have known what a shitstorm he was stirring up. Hell, her dad didn’t know what the hell he had been getting into.
Sure, it would have been better if Dove had come to the club right away about what her Dad wanted her to do, but we couldn’t do back.
The only thing we could do was go forward, and Dove was going to be by my side the whole time.
*
Dove
I didn’t even want to think about my trust fund. God knew what was going to happen to it. I assumed my dad would keep control of it to keep me under his thumb, though he should be throwing it at me since he so royally fucked everything up.
“Thank god you still don’t think I’m a rat.” That had sucked big time when the club and Throttle thought I was some spy trying to get them in trouble.
“For the record, even when I thought you were a rat, I also thought you were hot.” Throttle winked at me.
I rolled my eyes and laid my head on the seat. “Thank you, I think.”
A sign for Mt. Pleasant was on the side of the road, and it was like a cup of cold water dumped over me.
Our week-long adventure of distracting the camera crew was over, and it was time to get back to our real reality.
*
Chapter Twenty-Two
Throttle
“You, too, huh?”
I threw back the shot Dice placed in front of me.
“Dropping like fucking flies,” Pirate muttered.
