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"The kind that involves finding out what the fuck the Vipers are doing," he says. "Don't tell me you aren't curious as a motherfucker why they haven't made a move since Kyra. They're up to something. I feel it in my gut."
"Fuck. You too?"
He nods. "It's too goddamn quiet. That's never a good sign. Either they're up to something or they've moved on to someone else. Either way, I'd like to know once and for all if we can ease off on security or if we need to keep stressing about this shit. My goddamn ball hairs are going gray."
"You do know there is some shit I don't need to hear, right?" I ask.
He shrugs one massive shoulder, tossing my paperweight into the air again. "You probably prune yours into hearts or some shit like that." A sly grin spreads across his face. "Do you get your arsehole steamed too?"
"You spend too much fucking time with models," I say, shaking my head. Only they would think up some bullshit like getting your asshole steamed.
His grin widens. "You're the only model I know."
"I'm not a goddamn model," I growl, flipping him off this time.
My face has been splashed across more magazine covers than I can count. I've been on every Most Eligible list in the country since I was twenty-one. My brothers gave me the nicknamePlayboyas a result. They think that shit is hilarious and give me nine kinds of hell about it.
I know what I look like and what people say about me. But they don't know me. Those who do, like Giant, know what I'm really about. They know who I really am. They may give me shit, but they know I'm not a fucking model, I'm not a pretty boy, and I'm not interested in living the high life or any of that bullshit. I've got bigger fish to fry and more important shit to do.
"He doth protest too much," Giant says.
"Asshole," I laugh, chunking a pen across the desk at him.
He bats it away with the back of his hand, sending it flying across the room. He doesn't even miss a beat catching the paperweight as it descends from the air.
"Have you heard anything else about the case on the Savages?" I ask.
He shakes his head, scowling. "Cops aren't telling me or Fifth shit," he says, referring to Jude Despora, our club's lawyer. "All we know is they've got someone deep undercover and they're trying to keep from blowing his cover before he gets the intel he needs to secure the case. It could be days. It could be weeks. I guess it depends on how dirty the Savages really are."
"Fuck," I growl, wishing they'd hurry the hell up and get on with it. Cash is worried as fuck about the Vipers coming after Hadley, who is pregnant. Landon "Cowboy" Rickman is losing his mind worrying about them coming after Kyra again. Hands has his hands full taking care of Scout, the baby girl the Savages nearly killed. They're all doing a good job holding it together, but I know them, and I know it hasn't been as easy as they make it look.
They're worried, and they'll continue to worry until the Vipers and the Savages are dealt with. I can't do anything about the Savages. That situation is out of my hands. But my father is the reason we're in the shit with the Vipers. Until the feds handle them, I owe it to my brothers to find out what they fuck they're planning and put a stop to it.
The paperwork will still be here tomorrow.
"Let's ride," I say to Giant, my mind made up.
Chapter Two
Catriona
"Youhavegottobe kidding me," I mumble, gaping as two giants slip down the alley behind my brother's pawnshop as I walk toward my car after closing up. They're pretty sneaky for giants, I'll give them that. Had I not been watching the shadows so closely I wouldn't have noticed them at all. But my older brother, Connor, attracts the worst kind of trouble.
I learned a long time ago to keep my eyes peeled. I refuse to end up a statistic, kidnapped and murdered before I even reach my twentieth birthday.
I pause in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around. The street is deserted. In Copper Creek, it usually is once the sun goes down. Unlike Silver Spoon Falls, the thriving community a short drive away, business isn't booming in Copper Creek. The small town has been slowly dying since I was a little girl. The only people left are those in no hurry to get out…the old-timers, the lifers, and the troublemakers.
And, apparently, the two goons breaking into my brother's pawnshop.
I briefly consider letting them do it and then sigh. Connor will lose his mind. War will be declared. Vengeance will be sought. Blood will be shed. And I'll end up spending even more of my life checking every shadow.
Connor will also lose his mind if I call the cops. He has a history with them, none of it good. It comes with the territory when you're VP of an outlaw MC. God only knows how much of the crap he pawns inside the shop is stolen. It's why he adamantly refuses to let me do anything more than clean up the place and answer the phones. I don't argue with him. The less I know, the better.
I love Connor, really I do. When our parents died in a car accident when I was twelve, he raised me. He was barely twenty-one, working in the oilfields just trying to keep us together. He was normal. And then he met Rooster and joined the Hell's Vipers.
Nothing has been the same since.Connorhasn't been the same since. I used to dream about getting us both out of this town. Now, well, now I'm not so sure I'll ever get him out of here. This life didn't choose him. He chose it. I spend half of my time trying to keep him out of prison, and the other half feeling guilty for wanting to get myself out of here in one piece.
It looks like tonight is going to be more of option one.
