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“Fuck,” Nova sighs. “Alright. What do you need from me?”
“Grab a new burner, reach out to a few of your contacts, ask 'em to be on standby.”
“That's gonna cost a lot—favors and cash,” Nova muses.
“We've got plenty of both,” Bane says. “I'll know more in a few hours. Until then, prepare the guys.”
“One more thing. We're gonna go on lockdown, so get whatever shit you need today.”
“On it,” Nova says, pushing off the counter and leaving the kitchen without another word.
I look at my cousin. “How are you feeling about this?” It's the same question I ask him before every job and move we make.
His brows pitch forward. “Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.” It's the same thing he always says. And the familiarity gives me a glimmer of hope that everything will turn out alright.
39
EVANGELINE
“I don't understand.”I shake my head a little, confusion tugging my brows low. It’s been two days of quiet chaos. The kind of frenetic energy swelling inside the house, big enough where it’s pressing against your skin. But no one says anything to pop it. Hushed conversations are happening between all three of the guys, but no one is really talking to me.
“We have to go now,” Bane murmurs.
“Where are you going?”
“It's club business, baby girl.” His brows are furrowed, eyes downcast. Regret tugs the curve of his mouth down.
“You forget that my motorcycle club knowledge starts and ends with ten episodes of a TV show and a few romance novels. So explain it to me like I'm five.”
The corner of his lip twitches. “Well, I don't think I would tell you this if you were five.”
I roll my eyes and fold my arms across my chest. “Okay, well just, I don't know, give me something. The three of you have been acting weird as hell since the storm. I know something happened to one of the guys, but what I don't understand is why you're gearing up like you're heading into battle.”
“Yes you do, sugar.” His voice is low, even. He's always so steady. Even in the face of danger.
As I try to make sense of everything, my thoughts become a tangled web of confusion. My mind goes to the worst-case scenario, and my vision blurs. A lump forms in the back of my throat, and I shake my head, my hair tumbling across my shoulders.
He rushes to my side, his hands gently cupping my cheeks. He sweeps his thumbs beneath my eyes, and the relief his touch gives me is nearly instant. “It's alright. Nothing is gonna happen to me.”
“You don't know that. This—this is fucking crazy, Lincoln.” My voice gets high and my eyes feel a touch too wide. My hands latch onto his forearms, like I can physically stop him from leaving.
He doesn't sugarcoat it or tell me platitudes, he simply nods. “It is dangerous. But I'll come back to you, you hear me? And when I do, if you want out, then we'll fucking leave.”
“What?” I can feel the space between my brows wrinkle as I look up at him.
His hands fall from my face, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. I release his wrists with reluctance, immediately feeling a sense of loss. But his gaze never wavers from mine as he takes his kutte off.
And then he shocks the hell out of me when he drapes it over my shoulders. I'm pliant in his hold as he pulls my arms through the openings on either side. The leather feels warm and surprisingly soft, lighter than I expected.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, almost afraid of his answer.
“You know exactly what it means, sugar.” His deep voice sends shivers down my spine as he leans in close. He brushes his lips across mine in a kiss so achingly sweet it makes my heart clench.
“Why? Why, Lincoln?” I whisper against his mouth. Dread fills my belly like a bucket of fish out of water, heavy and flip-flopping around.
He pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, his own smoldering with something I can't quite place. “You know why, baby girl,” he says calmly.
It's such a stark contrast to the way my heart is thumping wildly against my chest. It makes me feel like I'm losing my mind.
